Odds
by They Are The Worms
Summary: The odds were definitely against them, but what choice did they have? The story of the four Kharlan heroes. Reviews are loved!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, dear readers! Welcome to my first attempt at a fanfic. I hope you like.**

Disclaimer: Don't own Tales of Symphonia.**  
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><p><em>And I've got one foot in the gate of hell<br>You got two hands pulling me around  
>You got three years just for givin' up<br>And I've got nothing to complain about_

_~Eastern Conference Champions, 'The Box'_

He knew, had always known, that this was where he'd end up. That this was how his life would end. He wouldn't die in battle, a hero for his people. He wouldn't die peacefully in his sleep, or even of natural causes at all. No, Yuan Ka-Fai was destined to die silently. He was destined to be slowly picked apart by humans, having parts chopped from his body piece by piece.

But no story should start with an ending. Stories should begin at the beginning, simply because it's less confusing that way. Like many stories, Yuan's begins on a windy, stormy day. It was the kind of day that the village of Troy saw often.

On days like this, Yuan's favorite place to be was the library. The large, high walls were completely covered with hundreds of books on a multitude of subjects. Warm and inviting with a comfortable couch, lit by antique torches, and smelling of pine, Demitri took immaculate care of this library.

He never knew what Demitri's last name was. In fact, none of the children did. They simply knew him as Demitri, or the name the little ones gave him, Papa Mitri. He was older, fifty or so, middle-aged for a human. But he had the energy and passion of a twenty-five year old.

Maybe that was why Yuan, like so many others, was so drawn to him. His vitality, his zeal. Or perhaps it was just because Demitri had been the only father figure he'd ever known.

Whatever the reason, Yuan was sitting in the library, reading up on the Summon Spirit Undine. Halfway through a chapter about Undine's Curse, the alarm bell rang. Normally, it rang at least once a week, but this time was different. This time, it was no drill.

A week ago, Demitri had been waiting for Yuan when he entered the library. "Good afternoon, Yuan," he said in his soft-spoken voice.

"Hello, Demitri." Yuan settled down next to his surrogate father. "Did you need something?"

Demitri smiled at him, a charming but sad smile. "I need a leader."

"Why?"

"…We are in danger. My intelligence inside the Tethe'allan army tells me that Aurion knows where we are, and he's planning to come after us. The next time the bell rings, it won't be a drill."

Yuan took a deep breath. "How much time do we have to evacuate?"

Demitri shook his head. "We aren't going to evacuate. Not until the last moment. We can't have the children panic and ruin our chances of escape."

"What will we-?" Yuan was cut short by Demitri hurriedly interrupting him.

"I'll explain. Everyone knows the evacuation plan; the children will simply follow it. The only difference is that _you _will be the one to lead them." He held up a calloused hand at Yuan's expression. "I'm not finished. You will take over my role. If anyone asks, I simply had work to do. Take them all the way through the plan, see that they head for their safe houses. When everyone is gone, I want you to burn down the mansion."

"Bu-burn it?" Yuan shook his head. "No, I can't, where will you live? Where will we all come back to?"

"Look at me." Demitri put his hand under Yuan's chin and forced it upwards. "Good men fight for what they believe in. I want to be called a good man at my funeral."

Yuan stared at him for a few seconds. "You…you can't…I…"

Demitri let go of his chin. "Your escape comes first. Burn the mansion only if you can get out safely. I don't think the soldiers will be able to understand anything they find, but better safe than sorry." Demitri stood up. "Yuan, I trust you. I have faith in you. Am I wrong to do so?"

Yuan hesitated, but nodded. "No. I'll do my best."

And now, Yuan sat in the library, listening to the high-pitched bell. He sighed, closed his book, and readied himself. "Let's go!" he yelled down the hallways as kids began to line up. "Let's move!"

Demitri's mansion was big enough to hold at least fifty kids comfortably. Sometimes, there were almost ninety; other times, such as when Yuan first arrived, it only had a dozen or so. Yuan's job, as the leader of the evacuation plan, was to make sure no one was left in the thirty or so bedrooms.

"Everyone in line? Got your clips? Good. Go ahead." Yuan moved on to the next room, checking that no one was left behind before he sent them off down the trapdoor, down to the basement.

Underneath the house, in the dark and damp basement of Demitri's mansion, was a padlocked door hidden by a boiler. Behind the door was a tunnel that led to a small house in the mountains. From that house, the kids were sent to various families across Sylvarant. They would blend in as a family friend or a rarely seen cousin, with falsified papers to hide their real identity.

As Yuan was ushering the younger children, trying to keep them calm, one of the older ones came up to him. "Where's Demitri?" the boy, a stocky 16-year-old, asked.

"He's got a ton of work to do," Yuan said automatically. "Do you have your clip?"

"Yeah, I got it," he grunted.

"Good. Get to the basement."

After the boy had stalked off towards the trapdoor, Yuan was approached by one of the younger girls with tears streaming down her face. "Allie doesn't have our clip!"

Yuan groaned. "Allie! Where's your clip?"

Allie, who had just turned thirteen, snorted at him. "C'mon, we don't need 'em. It's just a drill, right?"

"Find your clip," he said. Allie's eyes went wide.

"Th-this _is_ a drill, right? Right?" Yuan crossed his arms. "Holy shit. Holy shit. I-I need to find my clip."

"Yeah, why don't you do that," he said flatly. "Take your little buddy with you."

As Allie rushed off to get her clip, her little buddy trailing after her, Yuan began directing the rest of the group. Some, like Allie, had left their clips behind; he made sure they all had them.

The clips were one of Demitri's many inventions. They were small, metal disks that clipped onto a belt and had almost unlimited space for storage. They were able to hold a myriad of things, including food and clothes, the false papers every kid had, and Demitri's other invention, a flying machine. Each child, when they turned twelve, was given a clip, along with the responsibility of a 'little buddy': one of the younger children to take care of during the alarm drills.

It took a half hour to get every child into the basement and assembled at the padlocked door. Normally, this was where the drill would end, and Demitri would lead them back to their rooms. But today, Yuan approached the boiler, pulled out his key ring, and opened the door behind it. The assembly of kids gasped and started whispering.

"Well?" he said. "Get going. You know the plan."

Slowly, the kids started filtering through the doorway. The little ones were gripping their big buddies' hands for dear life, while the older ones were giving weary looks at Yuan. He shook his head when any tried to question him and waited it out. Once everyone had been evacuated, he doubled back.

The last thing he wanted to do was burn this house. It was his home, the only stable place he'd ever known. He'd come here when he was only four years old, with no family to speak of and no idea who'd brought him there. In a world where half-elves were hated, it was nice to have a safe haven. And now Yuan had to light it up like a pile of trash.

He did a quick search of the house to make sure everyone had gone through the tunnel, then headed for Demitri's room. He was at the top of the stairs when the door below burst open. He quickly ducked behind the wall and listened intently.

"Half-elves!" a voice yelled. "We know you're here! If you come out now, we may spare your lives!"

Soldiers flooded the entryway and began breaking down doors, searching. Yuan felt his chest constrict. His eyes darted wildly around, trying to find an escape, but there was nowhere to go. The soldiers were storming the house and moments away from coming upstairs. The voices got louder and louder, and Yuan closed his eyes tightly. He thought back to one of the many conversations he'd had with Demitri years ago.

"Where do the half-elves go when they're taken by the Tethe'allans?" he'd asked after reading a story in the newspaper. It was just months after the Tethe'allan Army declared their plans to round up all of the half-elves.

"You're old enough to know now, I guess," Demitri had said. "I'll tell you. They're murdered."

The boy's blood ran cold. "M-murdered?"

"They're transported to a…camp, of sorts. Once there, they're either enslaved or killed on the spot." Demitri glanced at Yuan, whose hands were shaking. "Don't worry. The people of Sylvarant won't let a genocide go on right under their nose. Not even a half-elven one."

"Why?" Yuan croaked. "Why do they hate us so much?"

Demitri slid his arm around the teen's shoulders. "People hate what's different, they fear it. The people who run the war might run it partially out of prejudice and greed, but the biggest cause of this war is fear. And nothing can change fear. All we can do is wait it out."

That had been four years ago.

Now, Yuan shook as the soldiers came closer. His skin started to crawl with fear and anxiety. An arm reached out and gripped his hair with a shout downstairs.

"I found one!" Yuan was dragged downstairs by his hair, banging his tailbone on each step. "He was on the second floor. There are probably more up there."

"You're shit out of luck," Yuan grunted as he was thrown unceremoniously to the floor. "Everyone else escaped, and you'll never find them." A strange feeling of pride welled up. By now, every other child was flying across the sky, on their way to the brave families willing to hide them. And he'd led them to safety.

A figure appeared above him. A haughty, distorted face peered at him with a scornful glare. "Boy, do you know who I am?"

"Drake Aurion," Yuan spat. "Teth'allan commander."

A cruel smile played on the man's lips. "Good boy. Now, we know that this was a safe house for half-elves, and we know that it's not the only one. Tell me, where are the other safe houses?" At Yuan's silence, Drake gripped his forearm and twisted. He gasped in pain as his elbow snapped. "I'll repeat my question, abomination. Answer or you'll face terrible pain. Where are the others?"

Yuan laughed. "You don't understand, do you? We're part of an underground chain. For the safety of the entire operation, we know only what we need to. You can torture me, break me, starve me, within an inch of my life, but _I don't know._ You'll get no information out of me."

Drake's face contorted in anger. "Tell me!" He kicked Yuan in the face. He felt his nose break and blood dripped down his face. But he couldn't help it: he just laughed, if only to piss off his attacker.

The soldiers had gathered around now, looking at various papers from Demitri's office. Drake turned to one of them. "What did you find?"

"Nothing, sir. They covered their tracks well."

Drake frowned. "I'm sure this…_thing_ knows something. Take him to Compound 49." Yuan's hair was once again seized and pulled so that he was staring into Drake's eyes. "Do you know what happens at Compound 49?"

"Let me guess, a birthday party?" Yuan grunted. His head was slammed into the ground and his vision swirled.

"Compound 49 is the last Compound we built," Drake said quietly. "Day by day, we take pieces of you, bit by bit. On the first day, we take your hand. The second, we take your arm off at the elbow. The third, at the shoulder. On the forth, we move to the other arm. And so on, and so on, until you either tell us what we want or there's just nothing left of you."

"You're sick," Yuan gasped. Drake pulled out his sword. "A twisted, sick man."

"I'm sick?" he whispered. "You're the one spreading your filth across the world. You and your kind are taking over, pushing the humans out of their rightful homes." Drake smashed the hilt of his sword into the side of Yuan's head. "You deserve to die."

Yuan's vision went fuzzy, and then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Holo! Well, I don't really know what to say...Supercali-I can't spell. If you're reading this, thanks! If you're not, kudos on your amazing telepathy abilities.**

Disclaimer: I don't own.

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><p><em>Freedom's just a word today<br>Freedom's just a word  
>When someone takes your word away<br>It's seldom ever heard_

_~Stone Sour, 'Sillyworld'_

Compound 49 was in the middle of the desert. Yuan barely had time to marvel at the vast sands and harsh winds before the gate was closed, trapping him inside. The guard removed his chains and led him through the compound.

There were only two buildings: a huge, white, hospital-like building in the back, and a much smaller, wooden building off to the side. In the middle, a huge tarp protected at least a hundred half-elves who were huddled around in the sand, eyeing him and the guard with distrust. A few feet away, more people were hauling buckets of water out of a well. Children were playing games, chasing each other and kicking up hot sand. The place looked like a ghetto, except for the white building.

It towered over the compound, like a grotesque palace. It looked too clean, too pristine, next to the dirty prison below. The guard was practically dragging Yuan towards it; he felt a strange repulsion to the place. But he didn't have a choice in the matter, as the guard yanked him through the door.

The walls inside were just as pure white as the outside. It was brightly lit, cool, and smelled of chemicals. Yuan was led to a counter where a pretty young woman was filing and filling out forms. The guard tapped on the glass pane separating them. The woman looked up, startled, and pressed a button on her desk.

"How can I help you?" she asked professionally.

"I'm dropping the new one off," he said gruffly.

The woman looked at him wearily. "More paperwork," she said finally. "Send him through the door on the right."

Yuan was shoved roughly towards the door. His former courage gone, he swallowed and took a deep breath. Then he swung open the doors and stepped inside.

It was eerily silent in the hallway. Low murmurs came from doors on either side of him. Yuan shivered and touched the smooth stone wall. He felt…detached from reality, like he was floating above his body.

"Inside," the woman said, prodding him in the back towards another door. He shakily stepped inside. There was a metal table, which the woman pointed to. "Strip off your clothes and sit."

Yuan did as he was told, still dazed. "Why a-?"

"You aren't allowed to speak," she said bluntly. "You will be examined by the doctor, then I will give you an ID number and your uniform." She left the room, leaving him to look at his surroundings.

The walls were, as expected, white stone. He was sitting on a cold, metal table next to a tray. The tray held various instruments, several of them sharp and dangerous-looking. He shuddered and slid away from the tray just as the door opened.

A short, slight old man shuffled up to Yuan and picked up one of the instruments. "Lay back," he said, aggressively pushing him down.

"Why am-?"

"The receptionist should've told you that you aren't permitted to talk." The doctor pressed a metal disc to Yuan's chest, making him shiver. "You would do well to learn the rules here."

The doctor wrapped a cuff around Yuan's arm and squeezed it so tight that his arm went numb. He jotted down a few notes on a clipboard and removed the cuff. Yuan winced when the doctor moved his arm; his elbow felt like it'd been cracked. A few more harmless instruments were used on him, a few more words scribbled down on the paper. Finally, the doctor stood up and tucked his clipboard under his arm. Without a second glance at Yuan, he exited the room.

Barely a minute later, the receptionist from earlier came back in. "Get dressed in these. From here on out, you have no name. Your number is 238. You will be known as 238." She watched as Yuan slipped on a white uniform. "As of now, you have lost your rights. You are not allowed to speak to any human who enters the compound. You will face punishment if you disrespect any human, guard, or authority figures. Meals are at noon and 6 PM. Because of the famine in this desert, you will eat only every other day. Is that understood?"

"I thought I wasn't allowed to talk," he mumbled. The woman frowned.

"Had you said that to anyone else, you would be beaten for your smart mouth. Lucky for you." She cleared her throat and continued. "You will be interrogated when Commander Aurion visits. He will decide which procedure will be performed, and when." She turned and went to open the door, but hesitated. "And one more thing. Look out for the candle at night."

"What?" Yuan asked. "What candle?"

She took a deep breath. "It's a rhyme. 'Here comes a candle to light you to bed, here comes a chopper to chop off your head.' When a guard comes in at night with a candle, it means that one of the prisoners is going to be taken away." She left, holding the door open for Yuan. "Come on. I can't stay in here too long, or they'll get suspicious."

"That rhyme," Yuan said finally. "That's 'Oranges and Lemons.' I read it in a book."

The receptionist nodded but didn't smile. "Good for you. Now, get outside."

As Yuan was leaving, he saw a guard leading a scared young man inside. He heard the guard mutter something to the receptionist, followed by her remark, "More paperwork. Send him through the door on the right."

Yuan was greeted by a blast of hot, dry air. As he was in a desert, he expected this, but it was a shock after the chilled air of the hospital. He squinted and headed for the tarp, where a knot of half-elves in dirty white uniforms were watching him.

"So, you're new here," a middle-aged woman said warmly. Yuan nodded. "I'm Rachel. I'd say it's lovely to meet you, but under the circumstances…" She shrugged and pointed to the well with her left hand. Glancing down, Yuan realized she was missing her right.

"You're probably thirsty. The well's that way and the bunk house is over there. Keep your head down and you'll be fine, okay?" Rachel smiled and sat down with a group of women.

Yuan headed for the well, suddenly aware of his thirst and the heat. Looking around, he saw that Rachel wasn't the only one with missing parts: there were a lot of one-handed people around, about half of them children; a few dozen had lost their arms at the elbow; and his eyes occasionally caught a person missing parts of a leg or both hands.

He drew water from the well and splashed some on his face. A little bit of nausea welled up, so he sank into the sand and groaned. He managed to keep from vomiting, but he was dizzy and light-headed. His elbow ached from where Drake had twisted it, and his nose was almost certainly broken. Panting, he laid back and closed his eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" A gruff voice said. Yuan tried to muster up the energy to answer him, but all that came out was a gurgle.

"Yeah, most newbies feel the same way the first time they see us. Come on, let's get you healed." Yuan moaned as he was lifted up and carried into the shade. "Martel! We need you!"

A blurry face hovered above him, speaking in a soft voice. "Hang on, I'll heal him." There was a flash of green light and all pain and sickness left Yuan's body. He sighed in relief.

"Sleep," her soothing voice said. "You need to rest. Get me some water to cool him off." He felt a cool cloth on his forehead and moaned. He fell asleep to the soft murmur of voices around him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Yay, another chapter. :D Thanks to all my amazing reviewers, and all those too lazy to review, but who enjoy this anyway.**

Disclaimer: Despite my best efforts to take over Namco, I don't own ToS.

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><p><em>Can you see that shaft of sunlight?<br>Can you see it in my eyes?  
>I can feel the fire that's burning,<br>Anger and hope so deep_

_~Genesis, 'Tell Me Why'_

Kratos stood one the corner, staring up at the grand staircase of his old home. He hadn't considered it 'home' in years, ever since Drake's goons led him away to boot camp. Three years in training, five in combat, and Kratos still held no love for him; in fact, he felt nothing but antipathy towards the man. He hadn't called him 'Dad' since he was seven. Not since the day Noah died.

It was mid-morning, gray and drizzling. Through the rain, the door cracked open and out stepped two women. The first was a slight, hunched old woman with iron-gray hair and pointed ears. The second was an elegantly dressed, slender woman with auburn hair framing her sharp features and keen eyes. Suddenly, the second woman caught a glimpse of the young man standing at the bottom of the stairs and her thin face broke into a smile. "Kratos," she whispered, reaching her arms out. "Oh, Kratos."

Kratos smiled back, stepping up to meet her. "Hi, Mother." She pulled him into a hug.

"Oh, my boy's back. I've missed you so much, so very much." She held him at arm's length to see him clearly. "You're soaked. Come inside, inside. Lenina, get me a towel and a hot water bottle."

Lenina, who'd been quietly watching, nodded. "Yes, Ms. Felicia."

"Mother," Kratos began as she led him inside. Felicia shushed him.

"Your father's asleep. Here, let's go to the attic, like when you were a little boy."

As they ascended the stairs, Kratos drew up memories of decades ago, when he and his mother used to hide upstairs. After Noah's death, after the scandal that rocked Kratos' world. After everyone had seen the darker side of Drake, after fear took over the household.

Only his mother could make such a dark time seem so…innocent and childish.

They passed the master bedroom where the sound of loud snoring was heard. Kratos caught a glimpse of Drake, his untidy dark hair peeking out from underneath the blankets. Just the sight of him sent a surge of anger and fear through him. Seeing her son's face, Felicia pulled the bedroom door shut.

"Let's not bother him just yet," she whispered.

The attic was warm and cozy, looking much the same as the day Kratos left. Felicia clutched at her son's sleeve and looked at him in the light. "Your hair, it's so…long." She ran her fingers through the shoulder length locks. "And you've aged so much since sixteen. It's like I don't even recognize you anymore."

Kratos tried again. "Mother, I have to tell you-"

"You look like him," she murmured, almost to herself. "So handsome. So strong." Her eyes filled with tears.

"Mother," he said. She threw her arms around him. "Mother, it's very important. I have to tell you before Drake woke up."

Felicia sniffed and stepped back. "You're right. You're right. I'm sorry, you must have so much to tell me."

"When I was going through-" He was interrupted once again by a knock on the door.

"Ms. Felicia," Lenina came in, carrying a hot water bottle, a towel, and some blankets. "I've brought you your things." Behind her was a younger woman, this one holding an infant on her hip and a basket of laundry.

"Yes, thank you, Lenina. Kratos, you remember Lenina and her daughter, Dessa."

"Is that your son?" he asked Dessa, who was having trouble juggling the basket and the baby. He stepped forward and lifted the child out of her arms. "He's cute."

"Oh, um, thank you." Dessa blushed and settled the laundry basket on the floor before reclaiming her son.

"Dessa," Felicia said, abruptly stern. "Get me my quilting."

"Yes, ma'am."

Once Dessa and Lenina had left, Felicia turned to her son. "Please don't pick that child up. He's very…dirty. I don't think she washes him much. Or it could just be his…" She hesitated. "...dirty blood line."

Kratos stared at her, stunned. "Mother, I didn't know you thought that way."

"Now, listen, Kratos, I was thinking that you can have the second floor bedroom." Felicia ignored her son's words and wrapped a blanket around him. "You and your father can spend some time together once he wakes up. He just got back from a raid, there have been so many."

She was talking fast, as if trying to quash Kratos' voice. He raised it, trying to talk over her. "Mother. Mother, I can't stay here. You'll understand once I explain." He cleared his throat. "When I was in Sylvarant, my squad-"

"Oh! My poor boy, in that nasty place! You didn't get sick, did you? They don't have proper doctors, it's all voodoo and magic over there."

"Mother, please listen to me," Kratos pleaded. "I'm trying to tell you something important. I-"

"Ms. Felicia, here's your quilt." Dessa gave a respectful bow and backed out of the attic.

Felicia started her stitching, ignoring Kratos' exasperated look. "Sylvarant is so dirty, they say. They don't have showers over there, and they wear the same clothes for weeks. They live like half-elves. As I was saying, maybe you and your father can go-"

"Mother, this is important," Kratos said with urgency. "Drake cannot know I'm here."

"Why not?"

Kratos hesitated. "He and I...we're enemies. I started something, something bigger than myself. It's a good thing, though, you'll see."

The doorbell rang and they heard Drake waking below them. Felicia and Kratos waited with baited breath as they heard his heavy footsteps thudding across the floor. They heard his low voice muttering.

And they heard his shout of anger as the soldier at the door told him that Compound 32, located in the plains of Sylvarant, had been destroyed, burnt down by an unknown arsonist.

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><p>Yuan was awakened by a sharp poke in his side.<p>

"Is he dead?" Another poke. "I think he's dead, Martel."

"He's not dead!" a woman's voice scolded. "Go get me some water for him. I think he's waking up."

Yuan groaned and rolled over. He was lying on a wooden cot with a thin cotton blanket rolled up under his head. All around him were wooden bunks, stacked up to the ceiling. Several of them were filled with sleeping bodies, some of them still while others tossed and turned. He opened his eyes to see the back of a pretty, slender woman digging around in a rucksack. He reached out and touched her arm.

She gave a loud shriek. "Oh! You scared me. Are you feeling better?" She placed her hand on his forehead. "Hmm, you're still a little feverish. Mithos, where's that water?"

"Right here, sissy." A boy, barely ten years old, came in hauling a bucket of water almost as heavy as he was. He craned his neck to look at Yuan, his large icy blue eyes staring at him. "You almost died. You're really lucky that my sister was here, otherwise you'd be dead."

"Mithos!" The woman ushered him away. "I'm sorry," she told Yuan. "My brother's mouth runs faster than his brain sometimes. But he really doesn't mean to offend you."

Yuan grunted in response. He still felt a little ill, but the cool hand on his forehead certainly wasn't hurting him. She started wiping his face with a wet rag, humming tunelessly. Finally, she said, "Can you sit up? You're still pretty pale."

Yuan leaned forward and propped himself up on his elbows. "Hi," he mumbled groggily.

She smiled warmly. "Hi. Be careful. I healed your elbow, but it might still be sore." She wrung the cloth out over his head so that water dripped down his back. "Feeling better?"

Yuan nodded. "Yeah. Better." He swallowed. "Thirsty. Can I have...some water?"

"Oh! Of course." She handed him a cup of water. "I'm Martel, by the way. Martel Yggdrasill."

He gulped down the water. "Yuan," he finally panted. "Ka-Fai."

"Ah!" a voice boomed. "Our young friend awakes!"

Yuan recognized the voice as the man who'd taken him inside when he fainted. The man was easily two heads taller than Martel and twice as heavy. He thudded his way over to Yuan's bed and squatted to eye level. "You gave us quite the scare there. Only about half the folks here survive the fever."

"How long have I been...here?" Yuan choked out. "Sick?"

"Four days," Martel said. "You were delirious for the first two."

"Thought you weren't gonna make it," the man said. "Lucky Martel's here, or you wouldn't have."

Yuan took another gulp of water and glanced at Martel. "...Thank you. Both of you. You saved my life."

"Hey, don't worry." The man clapped Yuan on the back, making him cough. "Oops. Sorry. We look out for each other here."

"Not to be rude, but...who are you?" Yuan shifted a little bit, trying to loosen his muscles.

"Eh? Oh! The name's Knot. Oblie Knot, but everyone uses my last name." Knot stuck out his enormous hand for Yuan to shake. "A few folks here say you're Demitri's little apprentice. That right?"

"Demitri?" Yuan saw him in his mind, laughter and determination in his face. What had happened to him? "Yeah, I guess I was his protégé. I was supposed to take over the safe house after he retired."

"'Was'?" Knot frowned. "Past tense? Does that mean that Demitri's..." He trailed off.

"I think so," Yuan said quietly. "He told me to burn the mansion when I left. He wouldn't do that unless he wasn't coming back."

Knot lowered his head. "I'm sorry to hear that. He was a good man, Demitri. Helped a lot of kids."

"Who was Demitri?" Martel asked curiously.

"He ran a safe house for half-elves," Yuan said. "Orphans, wards of the state. If they didn't have a home, they lived on the streets. Demitri took them in and cared for them."

"After Tethe'alla invaded Sylvarant, after they started rounding up homeless half-elves, Demitri organized people together who wanted to help," Knot said. "A huge chain of folks who wanted to start a safe haven for half-elves. He's a legend in the Compounds. A lot of kids came through here that knew him."

"Eventually," Yuan continued, "the chain became a country-wide organization. There are people whose jobs are to falsify papers, people who donate money, people who take kids into their family. Some provide food and clothing, or give free medical attention. It's pretty incredible."

"The end result," Knot grunted, "Was to negotiate a secluded land for half-elves to live in peace, like the elves have Heimdall. But when Aurion took over, negotiation became impossible."

Martel was listening intently. "That would be nice," she said quietly. "A place of our own."

They were quiet for a few minutes. The only sounds were the occasional coughing fit of other ill prisoners, Mithos' feet shifting, and Yuan gulping some water down. The silence was broken when a teen boy who was missing an arm came into the barracks.

"Everybody, listen! A whole caravan of people just came, saying they're from Compound 32. Apparently, some guy broke them out and lit the place up! And get this." The boy cleared his throat, pausing for dramatic effect. "The guy…was a Tethe'allan soldier."

There was a murmur of interest that rippled through those in the barracks. Yuan sat up a little straighter. "If he freed them, why are they here?"

"They got captured a few days later. But they're saying that almost five hundred other half-elves escaped." A small cheer rang through the building.

"I don't understand," Yuan said. "It's only one Compound, out of almost fifty."

"You don't get it," Martel said excitedly. "Right now, it's one Compound, but if the horror stories about other Compounds get out, maybe people will do something to help us."

"Besides, maybe this guy's not the only one. Maybe he's recruited others." Knot stood up straight. "You never know. We might be out soon."

"Why doesn't anyone inside try to break out?" Yuan asked. "Why don't we start a revolution by ourselves?"

"We're a group of dirty, starving, dehydrated half-elves, who have no weapons and missing limbs." Knot stood up straight, and for the first time, Yuan realized he was missing one of his massive hands. "We don't stand a chance without outside help."

Yuan flexed his hand, watching the tendons contract and expand. "Why do they…do this to us?"

The only answer was silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**Woot! Another chapter up! Enjoy, and thanks for the reviews of love!**

Disclaimer: Don't own Tales of Symphonia.

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><p><em>So give me something to believe<br>Cause I am living just to breathe  
>And I need something more<br>To keep on breathing for_

_~The Bravery, 'Believe' _

"What did you do?" Felicia asked in shock, sinking into a chair.

Kratos sat down beside her, listening as Drake shrieked at the soldier. He was ranting and raving, venting his anger towards the only person available. It had happened for years: Drake's anger would rise, the dam would burst, and he took it out on his son. Hearing Drake screaming downstairs brought back memories of Kratos' childhood, which he forced back into his mind before answering his mother.

"I burned down the Compound," he said softly. Felicia stared at him with an incomprehensible look on her face. "When my squad went through Palma, we saw the Compound." He stopped and took a deep breath. "The way they treat people there…I was ashamed, for the first time in my life, of being a Tethe'allan soldier." He averted his eyes from his mother's. "We got to take a rest at Palma for a while and I…"

"And you just decided to commit arson while you were there," she said angrily. "You decided to do something that was considered high treason against Tethe'alla."

"Well, it wasn't my idea, I'll admit. There was a woman I met, a hotel maid. She and I…we planned it all out. In the middle of the night, we snuck into the Compound and opened the gates. When the alarms went off, we lit the place on fire." His voice suddenly took on a prideful tone. "The two of us freed almost five hundred people."

"I see. And this woman, did you sleep with her?" Felicia asked icily. Kratos stiffened. "That's what I thought. A mother knows. I also know that lust can make you do stupid things."

"It wasn't lust," Kratos told her. "Well, it wasn't all lust. I did it because…it's wrong. No one should have to endure what the half-elves do."

Felicia sighed. "You always do this, Kratos. You act before you think! Did it ever occur to you that you're now a wanted man?"

"Well," he answered doubtfully, "I-I guess it didn't, but that's alright-"

"Really? It's alright? I'm glad you think so."

"You always said the Compounds were a bad idea," he said sharply. "You said they were cruel and depraved. Why are you so angry at me?"

"Things change, Kratos!" Felicia sighed in frustration. "The half-elves have the power of magic. Over the years, more and more half-elves have joined the Sylvaranti army. If we don't stop them, they could gain enough power to turn the tables and invade Tethe'alla."

Kratos stared at her, nonplussed. "You're afraid."

"Is that a crime?" she asked. "Some of us aren't as brave as you, Kratos. Some of us can't just leave home and go off to battle-"

"That wasn't my choice!" Kratos roared, suddenly defensive.

"You left me here!" she shouted back. "You left me here to deal with the war and the politics and-and Drake and-"

"Is that what this is about?" he asked. "I left you to deal with _your husband_? What about all the years _I_ took abuse from him? Have you forgotten?" He yanked his sleeves up, revealing the scars Drake had left. "Training. Learning. Discipline. That's what he called this."

Silence fell over them. Felicia took a deep breath. "You left me alone here, with Drake and his temper. Who do you think he took his anger out on once you were gone?"

"He sent me to war," Kratos said quietly. "It wasn't a choice. I had other plans for my life, you know. I didn't want to be soldier."

"And now?" Felicia asked quietly. "What are you going to do now, Kratos?"

"…I don't know," he admitted. "I…want to help the half-elves. I can't sit by idly and watch an entire race of people disappear."

"You're a fool," she said harshly. "Didn't you learn anything from Noah? Going against Drake...is a bad idea."

Kratos recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "I'm not going to argue with you, Mother. It's too late, it's been done. The only thing I can do is keep going." He stood up as he heard Drake shout his mother's name. "I have to go." He hurriedly gathered his bag and headed for the window.

"Goodbye," Felicia whispered sadly. "And Kratos?"

He paused halfway out the window. "What?"

"…Be careful."

"Always." He smiled at her before creeping out onto the tree limb and out of sight.

* * *

><p>Violated. Deceived by one of his own.<p>

Betrayed.

Drake knew what that felt like. Betrayal. To be lied to. He knew all too well.

He shook the bad memories out of his head and thought, instead, of the problem at hand. A treacherous soldier had destroyed one of his Compounds.

This posed a multitude of problems. First, there were now several hundred half-elves were now free, roaming around in the outside world. Drake would have to set a team of soldiers up to recapture them, organize a major search of Sylvarant. Of course, this was trouble enough; Sylvaranti cities were uncooperative and hostile towards Tethe'allans. The second, more pressing problem was to stop the news from spreading. If the other forty-eight Compounds found out about the escapees, there would be chaos. Rebellions and uprisings left and right, half-elves escaping and infiltrating the pure, human society he had worked so hard to create. And, of course, he would have to make an example out of the soldier who'd betrayed Tethe'alla.

According to the messenger-stupid, incompetent, ridiculous messenger-the Compound had been destroyed two days ago. That left an entire forty-eight hours window during which the story could've spread across Sylvarant. That also meant that the traitor could be anywhere in the world. A two days head start would make it that much harder to track and catch him.

"Felicia! Felicia, wake up!" Drake jolted out of his chair and stormed upstairs. "Felicia! I need you!" That damned woman, probably up in the attic again. "Felicia!"

He heard her softly padding down the steps and growled. "Felicia, I need you to-" He stopped as he passed the window. Felicia reached the landing to find him staring intently out the window.

"What's wrong? What are you yelling about?" she asked innocently.

"I just saw something. Someone. Climbing the tree." Drake squinted. "Did you see it?"

Felicia glanced outside. "It must've been an animal, or maybe a slum child. What did you need?"

Drake kept staring out the window, but his suspicion was gone. "…Send out an alert. We are now looking for any Tethe'allan soldier who's gone AWOL. Send out reward posters for any deserted soldier found."

"Of course," she said, turning on the spot. Drake stood at the window for a few more minutes before he turned and left.

* * *

><p>Yuan spent a while bedridden, even though he felt fine. Martel forced him to stay inside, away from the hot sun for a few days. Around noon, when the sun was hot in the sky, most of the half-elves wondered into the barracks, seeking shade. The children wondered around aimlessly, looking for entertainment, which Yuan happily provided. He told him stories that he'd read as a child, tales of the Summon Spirits, stories from history, anything he could think of to occupy both the kids and himself.<p>

"You know," Martel said one day after lunch, when everyone else had headed outside to escape the stifling heat from being inside, "you really do a good thing. A lot of these kids can't read, so they've never heard stories like the ones you tell. "

"Why can't they read?" Yuan asked curiously.

"Most of us are from Tethe'alla," she explained. "Over there, half-elves aren't allowed to go to school. It's kind of sad, really. I learned to read from my father, but when he died, my education ended."

So Yuan continued the stories, spreading his knowledge. He told stories of mythical creatures, evil villains, and brave heroes. The younger kids would sprawl around his cot and listen in awe, while the older ones hung in the back, listening but pretending not to. It felt familiar, reminded him of his life in the mansion. His life with Demitri.

The days crawled by and a week later, Yuan was learning the day to day routines of the Compound. They weren't forced to work; there was nothing to be done. The only thing to do was sit and bake in the arid weather and pray for rain.

The drought was getting worse. Of course, being a desert made water scarce to begin with, but the drought only increased the desperation in the Compound. The well was the prisoners' only source of water, and with no rain, it was running low. Added to that was the fact that no water meant no food, which meant that starvation was a constant fear.

Yuan found that a lot of the prisoners simply sat under the tarp, staring into space. Some others sat at the fence with sticks, trying to bait the desert fauna for food. Martel, on the other hand…

"I used to be a vegetarian," she told him as they peeled flower petals and threw them into a makeshift pot. "I'm a healer, not a killer. But when you're starving, there isn't a lot you _wouldn't_ eat. I learned to eat meat."

"Then why are we cooking flowers?" he asked, tasting the stem. He made a face. "Ew. Bitter."

"I'll try to sweeten it a little," she said, setting the stem aside. "Anyway, most people do the opposite when they're starving. They work so hard to catch animals for meat, but they forget that there are plenty of edible plants out here."

"Huh," he said. "How do you know all this? You know, how to find food."

Martel blushed a little bit. "Just…stories people told me."

Yuan didn't push. He knew that there were some stories that hurt too much to talk about.

Somehow, although he wasn't sure how, he and Martel had become friends. Maybe it was just because he's spent so much time under her care; maybe because she appreciated all the help he gave her. Either way, they spent day after day sitting near the fence, picking desert plants and talking.

"Why aren't they guarding the gates?" he asked Martel one day. "If I really wanted to, I could just climb over the fence and leave."

"I suppose you could," Martel mused, fanning herself. "But it would be stupid. Outside the gates is the desert, miles and miles of it. No water, no food, no shade, for days. Just sand and monsters."

"Hmm." Yuan squinted into the distance. "I guess when you have no weapons, the monsters would be a huge problem. Still though…" He trailed off, still staring into the distance. "We could escape."

Yuan was so caught up in his thoughts in the daytime, that he forgot about the advice the receptionist had given him about his nights. He'd forgotten, that is, until he was woken up by a flickering light and soft whisper.

The low murmur was, at first, indistinguishable. Then, slowly, it got a little louder and a little clearer. Yuan was able, by straining his ears, to make out the words.

"_Here comes a candle to light you to bed…"_ The voices were eerily musical, in total unison. He felt a chill go through his spine. A small whimper came from a bed nearby._ "Here comes a chopper to chop off your head…"_

"What's going on?" he whispered to Knot, lying across from him.

"Shh!" Knot gave him a fearful look.

"_Here comes a candle to light you to bed…"_

There was the sound of someone shifting in their cot. A toddler began to cry softly. A few beds away, Martel clutched Mithos' hand, looking fearful.

"_Here comes a chopper to chop off your head…"_

Yuan lifted his head gently to see several doctors dressed in white, whispering the two lines of the poem as they prowled through the cots. At the front of the group, holding a candle, with lips tightly closed, was the receptionist who had warned Yuan to look out for the candle.

"No!" There was a sudden jolt as the doctors pulled a man out of his bed. "No, not Nat, not my Nat!"  
>The shouting was an older woman, who was gripping the sleeve of the man being dragged out. "Not my son!" she sobbed. "Take me, me instead!"<p>

"_Here comes a candle to light you to bed…"_

"Please!" she howled. Yuan suddenly wished he'd remained asleep, with his head down and his ears shut. But it was too late for that.

"_Here comes a chopper to chop off your head!"_

There was a thump, a groan, the sound of someone blowing, and the light was gone. The chanting stopped abruptly as they left the barracks. The only sound was that of Nat's mother, still sobbing.

Yuan didn't sleep well. He was plagued by nightmares he couldn't remember when he woke up. He rolled out of bed in the morning feeling like he hadn't had a wink of sleep.

"What happened last night?" he asked Martel. The entire Compound seemed subdued; none of the kids were playing, and the adults were huddled together, quietly talking.

"Nat was taken to the hospital," she said slowly. He got the feeling he wasn't the only one who'd slept badly. "And you don't come back after they take you. To make matters worse, his mother died in the middle of the night. She just…didn't wake up this morning."

"I don't understand," he said, sitting beside her. "Why Nat? Why do they take people in the middle of the night? Why take them at all?"

"Well," Martel said thoughtfully. "I suppose part of it is fear. They want to terrorize us, keep us under their thumb. But they only take people who won't fight back. Nat was starving to death; he was dying, so they took it upon themselves to speed up the process. It happens every once in a while."

"So they just come into the barracks and drag out someone who looks like they're dying?" he asked incredulously.

Martel nodded. "It's sick. The biggest fear in this place is that you'll be taken next."

"We need to get out," he said finally. "Do you think prisoners from any other Compounds have escaped?"

Martel shrugged. "There hasn't been news, but we don't exactly get the daily paper here."

"So much for hope," Yuan sighed. His stomach groaned; he felt nausea well up.

"Why don't you go get some water?" she suggested. "To settle your stomach."

Yuan shook his head and changed the subject. "The well's going dry. What happens when the water's gone?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "All we can do is hope that the rain comes soon."

"All of Sylvarant is facing a drought," he said. "And we're in the middle of a desert. I wouldn't hold my breath for that rainstorm."

"I'm a very spiritual person, Yuan. Miracles do happen."

Yuan nodded with a sigh. "I could really go for a miracle right about now."

Halfway across the world, just as he was leaving Meltokio, Kratos Aurion was caught in a thunderstorm.


	5. Chapter 5

**Why am I updating instead of studying or sleeping? Why is college filled with procrastination? Why did I just write 2000 words of filler? Why am I asking you people all these questions? I don't know. Anyway, enjoy! And, as always, thanks for reading and reviewing.**

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><p><em>You got a fast car<em>_  
><em>_But is it fast enough so we can fly away?__  
><em>_We gotta make a decision__  
><em>_We leave tonight or live and die this way_

_~ Tracey Chapman, 'Fast Car'  
><em>

Drake sat at his desk, leaning his head against the wall. Three days, if he remembered correctly. Three days of running around, three nights without sleep. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He needed to concentrate, ignore his lack of sleep, mind over matter…

He jolted awake at the sight of a name. No, it couldn't be…couldn't be right.

His hands shook as he picked up the paper to see closer. Yes, it was definitely there. Definitely on there.

"Felicia!" he yelled. "Felicia, get down here!" She knew, she had to, it was impossible that she didn't.

Impossible…

"Felicia!" he shouted, turning around. He saw her wincing in the doorway.

"What's all the noise about?" she asked, entering his study. He reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her close. "Drake!"

"You knew," he whispered, face inches from hers. She was shaking. Pathetic.

"Kn-knew what?" she asked, trying to get out of his grasp. "Let me go, Drake."

"Look!" He shoved the paper in her terrified face. "Look at this! Do you see it?"

"See what?" she asked. He laughed and abruptly released her.

"Was he here?" Drake growled. "He was here, wasn't he? Yes, he'd come running home, running home to Mommy for…help…" He trailed off. "He did this."

Felicia took off running, but she was no match. He was a soldier, trained to chase and fight. He caught up to her and grabbed the back of her dress, slamming her against the wall.

"No, stop!" she screamed. A few of the servants watched, breathless. "Please, Drake, listen!"

"Tell me the truth! Did Kratos destroy the Compound?" She shook her head frantically. "You're lying!" He banged her head against the wall, hard.

"No…no…" She was crying now, which only made him angrier. "I-I don't know…"

"You do know!" He backhanded her, leaving a welt across her face. "You know, you know, you know!"

"Yes!" she shuddered. "Yes, he was here, yes, he burned down the Compound!" He dropped her, leaving her to collapse on the floor, sobbing.

"I see." He clenched the paper in his fist, crumpling it. "So, Kratos is the traitor. This changes things."

"Please," Felicia gasped, clutching desperately at his arm. "Please, Drake, don't. I'll do anything. Just don't hurt Kratos, please don't hurt my boy."

He ignored her. "New posters. You!" He snapped his fingers at a servant, who jumped. "Send a message to General Brecklin. I've identified the traitor, and I plan to capture him alive."

Felicia drew a sharp breath. "Alive?" she whispered. "Thank you, thank yo-"

"He must be made an example of," Drake said coldly. "His punishment will be public and harsh. We must show the world that traitors get their just reward." He turned and slammed the door to his study, leaving his wife sobbing on the floor.

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><p>Kratos drew his cloak tighter around him, shivering in the rain. He wished he'd kept at least the shirt from his Tethe'allan uniform, something that was warm and waterproof.<p>

Kratos had managed to barter passage on a trade boat bound for Palma; halfway there, however, the captain informed him that the capital of Sylvarant had been blockaded, and their new destination was a small farming community near the mountains. This didn't bother Kratos in the least, being as he had no desire to be near anyone who might recognize him. But he still had to be careful, avoid anyone who might know him, and try to blend in.

Once they'd docked at the small harbor, he'd walked for several hours before reaching a tiny farm that had a covered clothesline behind it. He quickly switched his uniform out for a Sylvaranti outfit and headed for the small village where the farmers traded and sold their wares.

It had stormed the entire week of his journey.

Kratos got inside the inn as fast as possible, slamming the door on the blustery weather. A portly, middle-aged woman greeted him.

"Gettin' in a bit late, are we?" she drawled. Kratos smiled politely, but her scowl deepened.

"Uh…the storm set me back a bit," he muttered.

"You're lucky! I was 'bout to lock up for the night." She pulled out a book and pen. "Right, a room for one…name?"

"Oh, it's, uh, Se-Sea…wolf," he said lamely.

"Seawolf?" she asked.

"Seawolf Midway," he confirmed. She stared. "It's a family name."

"Yeah…yeah, so how many nights?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Just one," he said.

"That'll be 50 gald." He paid her, giving up a large portion of what little money he had. "Last door on the left." She pointed down the hall, slamming the book shut and blowing out the lamp. Kratos groped his way through the darkness and into the small bedroom. He was dead tired; he kicked off his shoes, dropped his pack on the floor, yanked of his soaking wet shirt, and collapsed into bed.

His dreams were plagued by visions of the Compounds. Starving children, people being beaten, bodies huddled together for warmth, and of course, the mass grave that held so many dead. At least he, Kratos, had a roof over his head. He might be cold, wet, miserable, and tired, but at least he wasn't under the constant threat of torture and suffering.

At least he wasn't dead.

* * *

><p>The news reached Compound 49 a week later: Compound 16, located on a small peninsula, had fallen. That brought the number of free half-elves up by about 400. The next day, Compound 6 fell, followed by Compound 43. Interestingly enough, none of the rebellions had outside help; there had been no news about the soldier from before.<p>

Yuan found himself caught up in the buzz about possibilities of escape, rebellion, violence. Knot and a few others were trying to plan out an elaborate escape plan using tunnels, while some simply became restless and eager to do something. Martel, however, forced his thoughts a different way: freedom.

"We're staying in Sylvarant," she told Yuan one day. She was making her usual rounds to heal those who'd just suffered their 'procedure.' Most of them slept fitfully after she healed them and gave them some herbal tea. Yuan had found that helping her was an easy way to pass the time without dwelling on his own problems. "Mithos and I…we can't go back. It's too dangerous to be a half-elf in Teth'alla right now."

Yuan felt like telling her that it was no picnic in Sylvarant, either, but his attention turned to a little girl who had just arrived. She was nursing a poorly bandaged stump of a left hand and crying. He lifted her up and settled her on an empty cot, where Martel healed her.

The amputations, which the half-elves referred to as 'the cuttings,' were getting more frequent. Yuan had the sneaking suspicion that the doctors were being pressured to make sure the prisoners didn't try to escape.

"I mean, freedom…it won't be freedom until the war ends," Martel said, rubbing the girl's back as she drifted off to sleep. "We'll just be stuck in the same situation, only now we'll have a price on our heads."

"…You say that like we're going to escape next week or something," Yuan said, folding his arms. "How do you know a rebellion will succeed, or even occur?"

"You're a really negative person," Martel said, grinning. "A pessimist."

"I prefer realist," he answered simply.

She sighed. "You have to understand," she said, smile fading. "We haven't had hope in a long time. Everyone's just been trying to survive, to just hang on, for one more day."

"You haven't been in here for that long, though," he said, frowning. Martel and Mithos had arrived two months before Yuan.

"It's not just the Compound. Back in Tethe'alla…Mithos and I were alone. We never had a home, we rarely had food, every day was a battle. I did anything I could to…to survive. For Mithos." Martel's voice quivered, so Yuan squeezed her shoulder. "Getting captured was almost a relief. At least now, we don't have to worry about dying a slow and painful death. They'll kill us first."

Yuan sighed. "I guess Sylvarant is the better of the two worlds. Still, I always thought Demitri would do it. Negotiate a land for us, I mean."

"Demitri sounds brilliant," Martel said, sitting on an empty cot. Yuan sat beside her.

"He was. A lot of people thought he was a lunatic, but all the kids loved him." Yuan sighed. "I still can't believe he's gone."

"...You must miss him. Was he family?" Martel asked.

"Yes and no," Yuan said. "I was young, very young, when Demitri took me in. I don't remember much before living with him."

"What about your parents?"

"…I remember…my mother." Yuan spoke with a tenderness Martel had never heard before. He was always so harsh, so bitter. "We lived in the forest, roaming around. I remember flames and yells, and then I remember falling asleep in my mother's arms. When I woke up, I was in Demitri's mansion, without her. And that's all I remember."

"Nothing else? That's sad," Martel said quietly.

"Not really." Yuan was now staring intently at the wall, avoiding her gaze. "I never felt deprived. I was the first kid Demitri kept, you know. All the others, they would grow up, move on, but I…I stayed. He kept me."

"He trained you to take his place, right?" Martel asked. Yuan nodded. "What exactly did he teach you to do?"

"He trained me to be a leader." Yuan smiled at her confused look. "He taught me a lot of things. We would build and invent things, read, paint-"

"Paint? I can't see you painting," she teased.

"I wasn't that good," he admitted. "But I did it anyway. He taught me how to fight tactically. He was a strategist, a great one. The plans he could think up…"

Yuan stared ahead, lost in his own thoughts, while Martel watched him. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry. Really, I am."

He sighed. "That's why I have to escape. I owe Demitri so much, it would be an insult to his memory to turn away from the job he wanted me to do."

"I keep thinking," Martel said slowly, "About what you said the other day. About how we could just climb over the fence and leave if we wanted to."

"Yeah, but you're right," he said. "There are monsters out there, and without weapons, it would be a suicide mission."

"…But what if we had weapons?"

Yuan shook his head. "Where would we get weapons?"

She hesitated. "Well…hear me out, okay? I was thinking about how they perform the cuttings. They use very sharp surgical tools, and they keep them in perfect condition." Martel looked up to see Yuan staring at her. "I know, it's crazy, but if we could get hold of just one…someone could escape and get help."

"It's not crazy," he said, leaping up. "It's brilliant! Stealing one or two scalpels wouldn't raise an alarm, but that's just what we need!" He laughed and kissed her cheek. "Martel, you're a genius! Come on, let's go tell everyone!"

He gripped Martel's hand, practically dragging her out into the blazing hot sun. "Hey, guys, we hav-" He stopped when he saw the looks on everyone's faces. Traumatized, scared…pitying. Directed at Martel. "…What happened?"

Rachel spoke up after a few seconds of silence. "We couldn't find you, Martel…it's Mithos…he just got taken away for a cutting."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, readers! Much love to you all. First up, let's address my mistakes. ThePurpleRose pointed out to me that I used the word "worlds" to describe Tethe'alla/Sylvarant...which is wrong. They're not worlds yet. Oops...my bad. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>When I offer you survival,<br>__You say it's hard enough to live,  
><em>_It's not so bad, it's not so bad  
><em>_How do you know that you're right?_

_~ The Killers, 'Confessions of a King (Bling)'  
><em>

"Are you okay?" Martel was shaking, clutching Yuan's hand like she'd never let go. The color had drained out of her face. "Martel?"

"Mithos," she whispered. Suddenly, her knees buckled. Yuan grabbed her, supporting her as she struggled to stand.

"He'll be fine," Rachel said soothingly. "I went through the same thing. Just think, it's only a hand. It could be worse."

Yuan looked at Martel. Her normally calm face was racked with fear and desperation. He squinted at the hospital.

"How long ago did it happen?" he asked Rachel.

"Only ten minutes ago," she said. "He put up quite a fight. Kicking and screaming the whole way. They had to bind his hands."

"Good for him." Yuan lifted Martel up onto her feet. "We might still be able to save him. Martel, are you listening to me? You have to listen to me."

Rachel shook her head. "Look, this was bound to happen. It happens to all of us, that's why we're here. You'd be best to just let them finish and help him through it."

Yuan ducked down so he was eye level with Martel. "Hey. Hey. Look, it'll be alright. Mithos will be fine."

Martel was shaking, her eyes flickering around. "No, no, they can't take him…I was supposed to go first, they said I would go first…" She seemed to be muttering to herself. Her eyes locked onto Yuan, and determination flared in her face. "I'm going to go save him."

Rachel squawked, "What? You can't!" and Knot shook his head sadly. Yuan looked at her intently.

"You're sure?" She nodded, letting go of him. "I'm going with you. Does anyone know how long the cutting takes?"

"Do you know what will happen if they catch you?" Rachel asked briskly. "They'll kill you, all three of you."

"And what happens if you do rescue Mithos, eh?" Knot nodded at Yuan. "You can't hide from them."

Yuan took a deep breath. "I have a plan. Just…trust me, okay?" Everyone stared at him, nonplussed. "Please. If the plan works, we might be able to get help for everyone else."

Silence. Finally, Knot said, "Depending on how long his physical takes…you might be able to get to him before they start cutting."

"Knot!" Rachel scolded. "Don't! What if they get caught?"

"Wake up," Knot snapped. Rachel looked like she'd been slapped. "The well is dry. The food is running out. More and more cuttings are happening. How long do you think it'll be until they just decide to let us starve? If they think they can make it, then who are we to stop them?"

"The physicals, how long do they last?" Yuan questioned, while Rachel glared at Knot.

"Well, mine took about a half an hour. Mithos was putting up a fight, so they might have to restrain him. That'll take longer."

Yuan turned to Martel. "It's now or never. Are you sure about this? Once we get inside, there's no coming back."

Martel set her face and nodded. "I'm ready."

Yuan turned on his heel. "Alright, then. Well, guys, it's been fun. We'll see you on the other side."

"Good luck," Knot said firmly, shaking Yuan's hand. He gave Martel a quick hug. "Hurry up and get outta here."

They both nodded and set off at a run towards the hospital. Sand kicked up, caking their already dirty legs. It took less than a minute for the pair to reach the entrance, where Martel suddenly pointed.

"Look at the sky!" Yuan turned and saw a large, heavy black cloud. "There's a storm…it's headed right for us!"

"This is a good thing," he said. "The well will fill back up, hopefully."

"Hopefully," she murmured. Yuan went to open the hospital doors, but Martel stopped him. "Wait, what's the plan?"

"Um…I don't have one."

"You said you had a plan!" Martel said, narrowing her eyes. "Why did I bother following you here if you don't know what you're doing?"

"Would it have made a difference?" Yuan asked curiously. "You were ready to rush in anyway."

Martel sighed. "So, what now? We can't just waltz in there and grab him. Obviously."

"Maybe we can," Yuan said slowly. He motioned for Martel to follow and pushed open the doors.

Just as when he'd first come here, the pristine room was empty and chilly. Behind the glass, at her lone desk, sat the receptionist, flipping through a pile of papers. She glanced up and nodded. Yuan strode over, with Martel trailing behind him.

"You know this is wrong." The receptionist looked up from her work and tapped her ear, indicating that she couldn't hear him. She then pressed a button and her voice came through the speaker.

"How can I help you?"

"I said, you know this is wrong," he repeated. "So that's why I'm going to ask for your help."

"Yuan, what in the name of Origin are you doing?" Martel hissed.

She gave them a wry smile. "Through the door on the right."

Yuan dragged a confused Martel through the door, where the receptionist met them on the other side. "In here," she muttered, opening a door. Once they were inside, she locked it.

"So, can you help us?" Yuan asked. She sighed and leaned against the door. "Please?"

"You took a risk coming in here," she said.

"With no risk comes no reward," Yuan stated. "Where do they do the cuttings?"

"…Down the hall. There are three floors of operating rooms." She hesitated. "I can't stay in here too long. They'll get suspicious."

"Who are 'they'?" Martel asked. "The doctors?"

"They're everyone who isn't one of us," she said. Martel looked even more confused. "Trust me. They are the bad guys."

The receptionist quickly unlocked the door and returned to her desk. Yuan grabbed Martel's hand and pulled her as he ran down the hall.

"How did you know she'd help us?" Martel asked.

"I didn't," he panted, moving faster. "Damn, I don't see any doctors."

"Through there!" Martel pointed towards a large, swinging door. "Why did you do it, then? Just walk in and demand help?"

Yuan shrugged. "She seemed like a nice lady. I followed my instincts." They stepped into a brightly lit hall lined with a dozen doors. He whistled. "Damn."

"There are so many rooms…" Martel murmured. "Where is he?"

Yuan reached out and gripped the first doorknob he saw. "Let's give it shot. One door down, right?" Martel nodded, and he opened it.

Inside was an even brighter room, empty of people. Yuan slid inside and examined everything. There was a metal gurney, complete with restraints; a tray beside it with menacing-looking instruments; a few machines and monitors that looked so advanced, Yuan couldn't begin to comprehend how they worked; and a small metal door in the wall. Yuan carefully picked up one of the tools. "A scalpel," he muttered. "Good. We can use this."

"Yuan, what do you think is down here?" Martel's voice echoed back at him. She was leaning into the small door, which held a metal chute.

"It looks like a garbage chute," he mused. "We'd better keep moving."

"Right. How many scalpels are there?" she asked.

"Five. We should take all of them, just in case we lose or break one." He pocketed three and handed the other two to Martel. "Let's get back out there."

They continued down the hall, opening doors to find empty operating rooms. They pocketed another scalpel for Martel, and then started just flinging doors open and checking. All were devoid of people, Mithos or anyone else.

"We still have two floors to go!" Martel said, her hysteria growing. "How are we going to find him?"

"Calm down," Yuan said firmly. "Wherever Mithos is, doctors will be, right? So we just need to find the only door that has doctors near it."

She nodded, but didn't look any more at ease. Her hands were still shaking; without thinking, Yuan took them in his own. "Mithos will be fine," he asserted, sounding much more confident than he felt.

"You're right," Martel sighed. "I have to stay calm. Can't panic. Got it."

Yuan led the way upstairs to the next floor. He quickly looked out into the hallway: no doctors in sight. "He must be on the third floor," he hissed. She nodded and followed him.

At first glance, the third floor was as empty as the other two. Then Yuan caught a glimpse of a nurse, all in white, bustling along the floor with some sort of cart. He motioned for Martel to follow, pulling out one of his scalpels as he opened the door and slipped in.

It became apparent immediately that Mithos was here; there were muffled noises coming from down the hall. Shouts and screams, cries for help, thumps and thuds against the wall told Yuan that Mithos was putting up one hell of a fight.

"Come on!" he hissed. The duo snuck down the hall to the last door on the right, listening as the yells became more distinct.

"Get your hands off me!"

"Hold him down!"

"Get the sedative! Nurse! Nurse!"

"Gah! He almost got away!"

Yuan prepared himself and waited. Martel bobbed nervously beside him. "Let's go," she hissed as Mithos let out a loud shout and hit something, probably a doctor. Yuan put his finger to his lips.

"Almost," he whispered. "Get ready to charge in."

A few seconds later, he heard one of the doctors shout, "Go get another nurse, we don't have enough hands!" The door creaked open and Yuan quickly tackled the person to the ground, struggling before he got a good hit on the side of his head.

"Go!" he yelled at Martel, who dashed inside. There was a scream, followed by Mithos crowing his sister's name. Yuan stood and followed, leaving the other man on the floor, dazed.

Inside, he quickly took in the situation: two doctors, one nurse. One of the doctors grabbed for his neck; he retaliated with a swift kick to the knees, which sent his opponent sprawled on the ground. The nurse stared at him for a few seconds before running out of the room in fear. Yuan knocked the doctor unconscious with a kick to the head. He turned and stood to see that Martel had violently slashed at the last doctor in the room. He was groaning on the floor, clutching his face.

"Mar-Martel! Sissy!" Mithos threw his arms around her. "Sissy, I didn't think you would come…"

The doctor Yuan had tackled came through the doorway, swinging his fists wildly. Yuan, without thinking, plunged his scalpel directly into his neck. The man staggered away, grasping wildly as blood poured out. Finally, he gasped and sunk to the ground, not breathing.

"Oh, no," Martel said softly. "Oh, no, I think you killed him."

Yuan was panting, adrenaline coursing through his body. Martel gave him a fearful look. "What?" he asked, a little too harshly. "Did you think it was going to be harmless? Did you think we could avoid killing our enemies?"

"I…I don't like…things like that," she said quietly. "I'm a healer."

"I know, I know, but…" Yuan sighed. "I'm not."

The room remained still and silent before Mithos suddenly said, "Aren't we leaving?"

"Yeah." Yuan shook his head to clear it. "Let's move. We need to get out of here before alarms start going off."

So the trio took off, Mithos never more than a few feet from Martel. He seemed to be fine, but his sister kept giving him sideways glances. As they ran through the first floor hallway, lights started to flash. A cool female voice, which Yuan recognized as the receptionist's, made an announcement.

"Attention, medical personnel. All medical personnel are advised that a subject has escaped. He is believed to have accomplices. Please be aware that this is not an emergency situation. We are simply asked to re-acquire the subject and perform his procedure. Appropriate measures will be taken against his accomplices. That is all."

"'…Not an emergency…" Yuan repeated. "She's covering for us. We have to move."

The door at the end of the hall opened, and they heard the receptionist's voice, abnormally loud. "I don't know, I think they went through here. I was running these papers up to Dr. Mins and they must've snuck in."

"Move!" Yuan shoved his companions into an operating room. Heart pounding, he listened as they began bursting into the other rooms, looking for them. He indicated the chute. "Martel, do you think we can slide down there?"

She hesitated, opening the silver door and staring down. "…We can fit, but Yuan…I don't know where it leads. What if it goes to the incinerator?"

"Then it's the lesser of two evils. I'll go first." He hoisted himself up and put his feet in. "Hey, Martel? You're religious, right? Do me a favor."

"Yuan, maybe this isn't the time," she said anxiously.

"…Pray for me." Hoping she was wrong, and the chute didn't lead to a fiery death, he dropped down. He landed hard on smooth metal with a grunt. A few seconds later, he heard Martel fall beside him, then Mithos.

"Where are we?" she whispered. Her voice echoed slightly in the empty room. "Is this…the garbage?"

"…This is where they throw amputated limbs," Mithos said quietly. "I heard one of the nurses talking about it."

"Ew!" Martel shrieked. "That's so disgusting! What happens to them?"

"Let's keep going," Yuan said. "There's got to be an exit around here somewhere."

Their footsteps echoed in the empty, metal room. Yuan could smell the faint tinge of blood, its metallic odor masked by industrial cleaner. There was a faint light coming from one corner of the room; groping and stumbling along, they all headed towards it. Finally, they stepped into a warm room, where Martel was proven to be right: a huge furnace took up most of it.

The incinerator looked like a large steel drum, with a spiral metal pipe sticking up out of the ceiling. The control panel indicated that it was shut down. There were some dried blood stains smeared on the door of the combustion chamber.

"Ugh…" Martel shut her eyes. "It's a good thing my stomach's empty, otherwise I'd vomit."

"Over here!" Mithos called from behind the incinerator. "There's a door, but it's locked. Sissy, what should we do?"

Martel looked around anxiously. "Maybe there's a way we can…I don't know, melt it? What do you think, Yuan?" She glanced around. "Yuan? Any ideas?"

"We should blow it up," Yuan's voice called from behind the incinerator.

"I think you're crazy," Mithos answered. Martel shushed him.

"I don't blame you," Yuan grunted, "but look." He reappeared, holding buckets. "Cleaning solution. If we can use this as fuel, we can create an explosion big enough to destroy the incinerator and blow off the door."

"I still think you're crazy," Mithos muttered. "I don't feel like being blown up today, thanks."

"Yuan, are you sure that'll work?" Martel asked uncertainly. "It seems a little, I don't know…"

"Crazy?" Mithos piped up. Martel shot him a look.

"I was going to say, dangerous." She picked up one of the buckets of cleaning solution. "Besides, how would it work? Would we just dump cleaner on the furnace?"

"Nope." Yuan tapped the control panel. "We dump it _in _the furnace. Then we turn it on and our incinerator becomes a giant bomb."

"You're insane," Mithos confirmed.

"Maybe so. Do you have a better idea?" Yuan folded his arms at their silence. "Thought not. Listen, you two go back into the other room. I'll try to set up the furnace."

The siblings did as he asked, heading to the farthest corner. Mithos was shaking. "Martel," he whispered, "Martel, we'll be okay, right?"

She squeezed him tight. "Of course. Yuan knows what he's doing."

Mithos mumbled, "No, he doesn't," but she didn't hear him. Yuan's footsteps echoed quickly across the darkness.

"Alright, the machine is warming up. Any second now." He slid his arm around Martel's shoulders in comfort. Mithos narrowed his eyes and pulled her closer to himself.

There was a burst of light, a loud blast, and a surge of hot air. Yuan rushed forward, heading for the flames spurting out of the doorway. "Come on!"

"Wait!" Mithos yelled, grabbing Martel's sleeve. "How are we going to get through if it's surrounded by fire?"

Yuan froze. "…Shit!"

With a loud squeak, the rest of the dark room was flooded with light. Someone had opened another door. "What happened?" a voice shouted. "What-oh! Someone, get down here! The incinerator's malfunctioned!"

More footsteps thundered through the room, headed straight for the flames. They didn't even notice the three prisoners making their escape out the door, up the stairs, and across the sea of sand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, another chapter up! Yippee! I hope you all enjoy it.**

* * *

><p><em>Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road<br>__Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go  
><em>_So make the best of this test, and don't ask why  
><em>_It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time_

_~Green Day, 'Time of Your Life (Good Riddance)'_

Kratos hadn't been prepared for this.

Of course, no one can prepare for everything. It's impossible to prepare for suddenly being the number one most hated criminal…ever. That's a curveball. But he should've at least prepared for this.

Kratos had woken up the next morning to see his face plastered over walls and fences, covering any empty space in the tiny farming community. The inn keeper gave him suspicious looks, even though he kept his hood up and tried to hide his face. The farmers were stopping to look over the posters, chatting about it to customers and friends. Others completely ignored it, either distracted or resolutely avoiding anything related to their Tethe'allan oppressors.

The wanted poster displayed what Kratos believed was the most recent picture Drake had: the photo taken when he was first enrolled in boot camp. Being as that was eight years ago, the picture looked much different from the current, real-life Kratos. He'd gained muscle mass and his face had hollowed out from the sixteen-year-old, childish look he once had. His hair was longer now, reaching to his shoulders, and his nose was crooked from a particular drunken fight he avoided talking about. Underneath the picture was a caption: "Kratos Aurion, 24 years old, is wanted for treasonous acts against His Highness, King Tethe'alla. Ten thousand gald reward if captured alive."

He almost laughed. If Drake thought he was worth ten thousand alive, what would he pay for Kratos dead? He turned away, ready to buy supplies and start for the Ossa Mountains. However , his plans were dampened by the suspicious and greedy looks of the citizens; instinct told him that shopping now would be a bad idea. After a quick glance that he had all the necessities and a silent prayer that they would last, Kratos took off towards the mountains as fast as possible.

The Ossa Mountains were steep, treacherous, and difficult to navigate on a good day. It was lucky that the storm had tapered off in the night, and so as Kratos was making his way up the rocky terrain, it was barely drizzling. Overall, he was feeling good about his travels, having made it out of the village without incident and reached the peak without getting killed.

He was feeling good, that is, until he peered out from the top of mountains.

His first thought was, "This wasn't here last time." Of course, Kratos, like all people, had a tendency to forget things, but something like this…this was hard to forget.

A desert. A big, golden, sandy desert, large as life.

Kratos' recollection of Sylvarant's western continent had been the Ossa Mountains, then the wide plains of the Iselia region. How had he forgotten a desert?

He could see two main structures in the distance: a large, white building-clearly a Compound-and a small cluster of buildings a few miles south of it. Both were too far away for him to reach without proper supplies.

Kratos hadn't packed enough water or food to track through the arid desert. As it was, he now had two options: either head back down the mountain to the village, where he would probably be recognized and arrested, or continue on and hope he could make it.

As it turned out, Kratos made the stupidest, most reckless decision of his young life, and pushed ahead, into the desert.

* * *

><p>"Are…you…insane?" Martel's hand reached out and yanked Yuan's long hair, making him wince.<p>

"What the hell? What did I do?" He snatched his hair back. "I got us out!"

"Luck," Mithos stated. "If everything had followed your plan, we'd be on fire or dead by now."

"Listen, you little-" Yuan snarled, only to be cut off by Martel smacking him.

"He's right!" she said shrilly. "Because you just had to blow up the furnace, we almost got caught!"

"But we didn't," Yuan pointed out.

"Of course! That makes it all better." Martel glared at him, but he knew there wasn't much heat. If anything, more anger was coming from the younger sibling, who just wouldn't stop glaring at him.

"Cheer up! We're free now!" Yuan let out a loud laugh. "Free!" He saw the corner of her lips twitch and grinned. "I saw that. You can't stay mad at me."

"…You're right. That doesn't mean you're off the hook yet," she added threateningly. "Let's move, we can't stay in this desert forever." Without a look back, she stalked past him.

"…I can stay mad at you," Mithos said venomously.

Yuan frowned. "You're a rotten little kid, you know that, right? You just hate me for no good reason."

"Oh, I have a good reason." However, Mithos didn't share this with Yuan, and instead followed his sister.

Running across the hot, dry sand had left the three tired, thirsty, sweaty, and irritable. They slowed down and started walking, their bare feet being scorched by the sand. Both Yuan and Mithos had yanked off their dirty white shirts and tied them around their waists. Martel tied hers up above her stomach and walked between them, rubbing her brother's shoulders comfortingly. Occasionally, they ran across monsters, but they managed to avoid the big ones. Smaller animals, like snakes and lizards, would dart around the sand, where Yuan would stab them with his remaining scalpel. Mithos kept trying to cast a water spell, but to no avail. He finally gave up, exhausted, when Martel worried that he wouldn't have mana left to continue.

"We need to find a place to sleep for the night," Martel said after a few hours. The sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky. "Yuan, is there a town around here?"

Yuan took a deep breath and tried to recall maps he'd seen back at Demitri's house, which seemed years away. "…Somewhere around here is a little town. It's supposedly where Efreet's alter is." He hesitated. "But I don't think that's the best place to go."

"Why not?" Martel questioned.

"Because it's being occupied by Tethe'alla at the moment. Our best bet is to head north."

Mithos snorted. "Do you even know which way is north?"

Yuan glared at him. "The Ossa Mountain Chain is near the eastern shore." He pointed to the peaks rising up in the distance. "Either we go there, or we go towards the Iselia communities. It doesn't matter."

Martel gave him a curious look. "What are the Iselia communities?"

"They live off the land, totally independent," he answered. "Most people consider them back asswards, but they're one of the few places that Tethe'alla _can't_ take over. They live in little groups and band together for support. Let me tell you, Iselians are tough people. Three times they fought off the Tethe'allan army during this war."

"Wow. Let's go there," she said. "It sounds pretty safe."

"Well, we're not going to make it there tonight," Yuan said. "We'd be best to find a place to camp, and head there in the morning."

It didn't take long to find a good camping place. They chose a shaded spot near a rocky cliff that had weeds sprouting out the side. Martel managed to yank some of the plants out and made a salad-type meal for the three, while Yuan cleaned and cooked the smaller animals they'd killed. Mithos, by ripping their discarded shirts at the seams, had made a makeshift blanket to sleep on.

The sun was completely down, and the only light was the flicker of magical fire, which had taken Mithos a few unsuccessful tries to get right. Yuan laid down on the edge of their 'blanket,' facing the two siblings. Martel was watching him, holding a curled up Mithos close. None of them said what they were all thinking: that falling asleep meant making themselves vulnerable, putting themselves in danger of being caught. It wasn't until after Martel reached her hand over her brother and held his for comfort that Yuan was able to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.

He woke up when something cold tapped his cheek. Naturally, he assumed it was Mithos messing with him. He groaned and rolled over. "Listen, brat," he mumbled, as the cold thing tapped him again. He slapped his cheek in his drowsiness, wiping off something cold, wet-

Wet?

Yuan bolted up; as he did so, another cool, wet drop landed on his arm, more on his cheek, his legs, his bare chest. "Martel!" He leaned over and shook her awake, roughly, waking Mithos as well. "Wake up!"

"Go away, Yuan," Mithos mumbled, batting his hand away.

"Wake up! This is important!" Martel yawned and stretched, forcing her eyes open. Yuan looked up hopefully, feeling more drops of rain falling on his face. Streaks of pink and orange were illuminating the sky, filtering through the light drizzle.

"What's goin-is it raining?" Martel shot up straight, holding out her arms. "It-it is! It's raining! Yuan, it's raining!" She stood up and turned slowly, marveling at the sprinkles of rain. "Can you believe it?"

Mithos' eyes were wide, his hands outstretched in amazement. Then he laughed. "Rain! Does this mean the people back at the Compound will be able to get water now?"

"Think so." Yuan stood up and let the sprinkles of rain wash over him, cherishing the feeling. Suddenly, Martel grabbed his hand.

"Dance! This is reason to celebrate!" She reached down and picked Mithos up, spinning him around. "Can you believe it?"

"We need something to collect water," Yuan said, falling back on the shirts. Mithos pointed.

"My kendama." Yuan looked at him curiously. "The doctors took it away from me, threw it down the chute. But I picked it back up."

Martel gave him a stern look. "I told you to get rid of that!" To Yuan, she said, "He tries to fight monsters with it. I keep telling him it's too dangerous, that he'll get hurt."

"Mithos, I could kiss you," Yuan said, grinning. The boy made a face. "But I won't, for both our sakes."

Yuan pulled the kendama out from where Mithos had hidden it from his sister, a small crevice in the cliffside. It had a few scratches, but no visible damage; it would work to collect water.

By now, the sun had risen completely, casting their shadows back on the dark sand. They each drank from Mithos' kendama, sipping the water gratefully. Martel ran her fingers along her skin, trying to clean the dirt off, while Yuan simply sat in bliss, enjoying the break from the desert heat.

The rain shower only lasted an hour, and its effects didn't last. Before long, the sand had become dried and cracked again, much to Martel's dismay. The air was still hot and arid, the sun was still beating down. But they were no longer in danger of dehydration, and as Yuan pointed out, they'd most likely make it to an Iselia homestead before nightfall.

So the trio headed north, hoping to see some sign of green grass or water. Instead, the sand continued for miles, forcing them to burn and blister in the sun. Yuan was leading the way, killing small animals and trying to scrape meat from the bones. Martel followed behind him, panting as she yanked up any plants, weeds or flowers, that she could find. Mithos tagged along directly behind his sister, cheerfully carrying both possible food items in his arms.

It was several hours later that they decided to rest for a while, settling down on the bare sand. Martel cooked the food with Mithos' fire, which only took him one try this time.

"I think I'm going to try to climb up a cliff," Yuan said as they ate. "I want to see how much farther we are."

"Will you be okay by yourself?" Martel asked. Mithos snorted.

"He'll be fine. If he falls, can I have his stuff?"

"I don't have anything," Yuan retorted. "I'll be okay, Martel. I won't go high, just enough to get a clear view."

"Alright," she said. "We'll be here."

As he walked away, Yuan heard Mithos whisper, "This is our chance. Let's hurry up and leave," followed by a loud slap and Mithos saying, "Ouch." He chuckled.

He found a rocky cliff not far and hoisted himself up, climbing higher and higher. He found a decent sized rock jutting out and sat on it, looking out into the distance. There were a few more miles of sand, then it turned gradually into green grass. He could make out a few farms and houses, not far away. Pleased and certain that they would be out of the desert soon, he climbed back down.

As he reached the ground, Yuan spotted a sidewinder slithering through the sand. Thinking of dinner that night, he flicked the scalpel at it. It missed, scaring the sidewinder away. With a frustrated growl, Yuan went over to retrieve the weapon. Suddenly, something wrapped around his ankle. He tripped, falling flat on his face.

"Ugh," he said, spitting sand out of his mouth. "What the-?"

There was a loud moan. Yuan looked around and saw a man, half covered in sand, his eyes barely open. The man kept opening his mouth, trying to speak. Yuan scrambled towards him, examining him closer. He wasn't wounded, but his face felt hot to the touch. Fever.

"Can you hear me?" Yuan asked, brushing sand off his face. The man's face twitched in what Yuan took to be a nod. "Listen, I'm going to get you help."

Yuan seized the man and managed to pull him over his shoulder, running as fast as he could towards where his companions were. As soon as he spotted them, he yelled.

"Martel! Martel, I found someone!" She looked up and sprinted to meet him halfway.

"What's wrong?" she asked as Yuan dropped the man, who grunted. "Is he injured?"

"I don't think so," Yuan said. "It looks like the fever, same one I had." Martel gasped as she pulled back the man's bangs and saw his face clearly. "What?"

"Yuan, I-I know him," she said softly. "I think it's him, anyway."

"Who? I thought you were from Tethe'alla." Yuan looked up as Mithos arrived, carrying their supplies.

"This is-I think so…" Martel squinted into his face, trying to see clearly. "Yes, I'm sure of it. He is a Tethe'allan."

"Who is he?" Yuan demanded. She looked up abruptly, eyes locked with his.

"I think this is Drake Aurion's son."


	8. Chapter 8

**Woo! Chapter 8! This is mostly just filler, it'll get more interesting soon. Promise!**

* * *

><p>And<em> what it all comes down to<br>__Is that I haven't got it all figured out just yet  
><em>_'cause I've got one hand in my pocket  
><em>_And the other one is giving the peace sign  
><em>

_~Alanis Morissette, 'One Hand In My Pocket'_

"Let's leave him here," Mithos said after a few seconds of silence.

Yuan narrowed his eyes. "What is wrong with you? He'll die if we leave him here!"

"And if we help him, he'll kill us!" Mithos snapped back.

"How do you know that?" Yuan shouted, standing up. "He's too sick to even stand up, let alone attack us!"

"He's human!" Mithos yelled back, stepping closer to Yuan.

"Enough!" Martel shouted at both of them. "Now is not the time. I happen to agree with Yuan that we shouldn't be so quick to just leave a man to die, but Mithos is right, too. What if he tries to attack us?"

"He's in no condition to do anything but lie there." To accent Yuan's statement, the man moaned and rolled on his side. "See? He seems pretty harmless to me."

"Yes, _now_. But once he recovers, who knows?" Martel sighed and placed her hands on the man's cheeks. "I'll heal him here, but it won't do much good until we get him some water and a safe place to rest. We need to keep going."

Martel cast a spell, a glow of green light, over the man. He moaned and relaxed a bit.

"I'll carry him," Yuan said, lifting the human. Mithos glared at him suspiciously. "What's your problem, kid?"

"My problem?" Mithos snarled. "If that human tries to hurt Martel, you better protect her. If you guys would just listen to me, we'd leave him here."

"You are one heartless little kid," Yuan answered, leading the way towards the grassy plains ahead. "Let's move."

* * *

><p>It was sundown when they reached the first farm in the Iselia region. A plain, wooden house with a barn and acres of crops around it. They stood around awkwardly near the doorway before Martel went up and knocked.<p>

A teenage girl answered. She was slim and pale, with a long, thick black braid hanging down her back. "May I help you?" she asked softly. Martel cleared her throat.

"My friends and I would like to speak to your parents, if that's okay," she said. The girl paused and then shut the door gently.

"Should we go to another house?" Mithos asked nervously. "She didn't say anything."

"Hang on," Yuan panted, setting the unconscious man down. His head flopped back onto the wooden porch with a thud. "Geez, he's heavy. What do Tethe'allans eat, cement?"

The door creaked open again and a bulky, towering man stepped out. Mithos stepped behind Martel. The man spoke in a booming voice. "My daughter said you wanted to speak to me."

"Um, yes," Martel squeaked. "M-My name is Martel, and this is my brother, Mithos, and our friend, Yuan."

"…You're from the Compound," the man stated.

Martel froze, unsure of what to say. Yuan spoke up. "We found another traveler in the desert who's sick with fever. We're starving and thirsty, in need of a safe place to sleep. Can you please help us?"

"It'll be a tight fit, but we have room." He stooped down and lifted the human from his place next to Yuan. "Come inside. My name is Leroy, and these are my daughters."

The trio stepped inside anxiously. Huddled near the stairs were four girls of various ages, watching them with cautious. Leroy led them to a small, cozy room where he set the ill man down on a couch. He indicated a chair to Martel. "Please, have a seat, miss. I'll be right back." He turned towards the girls. "Marina, would you get me some cool water, and Audrey, a pillow and blanket?" He disappeared up the stairs with the two older girls.

Martel sat down and Mithos leapt onto her lap. Yuan, for lack of anything better to do, knelt beside the human and watched his face twitch. Yuan couldn't help but wonder what the son of Drake Aurion was doing wondering the desert of Sylvarant. Shouldn't the son of a Tethe'allan commander, only a few steps away from royalty, be travelling with an entourage of servants and bodyguards?

"Are you from the hospital?" Yuan turned at the tiny voice and saw one of the little girls stepping towards them. She was no older than six, with dark pixie-ish hair that framed her thin little face. Her little sister hovered behind her, sucking on her thumb and watching them curiously.

"The hospital?" Yuan questioned. "What hospital?"

"You know. The one in the desert." She took a few steps closer, a tentative smile appearing on her face. "Papa says that's a bad place. Are you from there?"

"…Yeah."

Her smile broadened. "Are you hungry? We just made bread and soup."

Yuan opened his mouth to say no when his stomach gave a loud growl. Martel laughed. "I think that's a yes," she teased.

Leroy and his daughters came back into the room, carrying blankets, pillows, towels, and a tub of water. The two girls dropped next to the sick human and began wiping his face with cool water. Leroy started spreading out blankets on the floor as a makeshift bed, not unlike the one they'd slept on in the desert a day earlier.

The little girl appeared next to Yuan. "Here," she chirped, pressing a piece of bread into his hand. It was still soft and slightly warm, and the smell of it made him think of Demitri and the kids from home. The nostalgia was bittersweet.

"You can have some soup, too. They can have some, right, Papa?" she said cheerfully, turning to her father.

Leroy smiled and nodded. "Of course. I'll heat up some dinner for our guests. But you, Meg, need to take your sister and get to sleep. Audrey, can you show them the bath tub while I get them some food?"

"Of course, Papa." Audrey motioned for them to follow her down a set of stairs, into the dark basement. As Yuan, Martel, and Mithos descended, they saw Meg pouting and leading her sister up the steps.

The basement was dark, cold, and wet. Audrey lit a candle and led them to a corner where a large steel basin sat. "This is our washtub," she said. "I'll start the water heater, so you can take a bath after dinner. There's the soap, and a towel to dry with. I can give you clothes, miss," she indicated Martel, "but my family is made of all girls. Perhaps Papa has some clothes to lend you two."

"What about our other friend?" Yuan asked. "He's sick. Shouldn't we call a doctor?"

Audrey shook her head. "He'll be okay, it's just a fever. We'll cool him down and let him rest, and he should be fine in a few days."

They went back upstairs, where the smell of soup and fresh bread had saturated the kitchen. Yuan's mouth began to water. Having survived on small desert animals and plant parts for the past month or so, eating real food seemed like a taste of heaven. "Thank you," Martel said as Leroy set soup out for them. "Your family has been so kind to us. There must be some way we can repay you."

Leroy shook his head. "My family welcomes travelers with open arms. You all just rest and get your strength back. You'll be safe here."

"Audrey and I can share a bed for tonight," Marina said. "Miss, um, Martel, you can sleep in my bed. The two boys will have to sleep on the floor in the sitting room."

"Mithos can sleep with me," Martel said. "We've shared a bed since he was born, there's no reason we can't now."

"That's fine," Leroy said. "Yuan, if you don't mind, you'll be sleeping with your sick friend over there. The floor isn't very comfortable, but it's all we've got."

"I'll take it," Yuan answered through a mouthful of soup. "Anything's better than sand."

After dinner, Martel went down in the basement to wash up. Mithos had curled up on a chair and fallen asleep, while the rest of the family had gone to bed. Yuan, who wasn't tired and was waiting his turn to wash the dirt and sand off his skin, opted to take care of their sick human.

As Yuan looked over him, he realized the man still had his sword attached to his belt, easily within reach if he woke up. Yuan cautiously removed it and set it aside; as harmless as he seemed, it was stupid to even give the human the chance to attack. He was starting to rethink his decision to take the man with them. He kept thinking of Drake Aurion's face, distorted with hatred. He kept wondering: how much did the father and son have in common?

Even with his reservations, Yuan was starting to feel a strange affection for this man, like a little brother. After all, you couldn't carry someone halfway across the desert without feeling some sort of connection to him. As Yuan ran a cool cloth over the man's forehead, he was startled by the sound of footsteps.

"You have no idea how much better I feel," Martel said, appearing in the doorway. Her hair was clean now, dripping wet, and the dirt had been scrubbed off her skin. "It's amazing-" She stopped. "He fell asleep."

At first, Yuan was confused, thinking she was talking about the man on the couch. "Oh. You mean your brother. You know, I don't think he likes me much."

Martel laughed. "That's just Mithos. He distrusts everyone and anyone. Don't worry about it too much, he'll warm up to you." She sighed and sat down next to Yuan. "He was supposed to take a bath before he went to bed. Dirty little kid…"

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the heavy, labored breathing of the man and Mithos' soft snores. Finally, Yuan spoke again. "You and the kid really are close, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I've taken care of him since I was fourteen." She smiled and ran her hand through Mithos' hair. "He looks like our mother, you know. Same nose, same hair, same cheeks…" She trailed off, lost in her own thoughts.

"…You should get to sleep," Yuan said finally, breaking her concentration. "It's been a long day."

"You, too," she said, picking up her brother. She hesitated before go up the stairs. "…Yuan?"

"Hmm?" he murmured. "What is it?"

"You did the right thing, you know," she said. "Mithos and I…we've never met a good human before. But you have this..._instinct. _You just know who to trust, like that woman back at the Compound. I never would've known who to trust."

Yuan sighed. "Let's just hope I'm right, and this guy doesn't wake up and try to kill us."

"I have faith in you," Martel said confidently. "You've gotten us this far...even if it was through sheer luck."

"Faith." Yuan snorted. "All the same, I'm keeping his sword close to me."


	9. Chapter 9

**Ninth chapter! I hope everyone had a nice holiday.**_  
><em>

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><p><em>And I found myself in a bitter fight<br>__While I've held your hand through the darkest night  
><em>_Don't know where you're coming from but you're coming soon_

_~Matt Kearney, 'Nothing Left to Lose'_

The next days were spent anxiously waiting for the human to recover. His fever had broken the morning after they arrived, leaving him shivering in a cold sweat and mumbling to himself. It was only a matter of time, according to Martel, before he was fully awake and healed. Until then, they would just have to wait.

Mithos spent his time reading the books the family kept on a shelf in the living room, all the while shooting dark, suspicious looks at the unconscious man. Martel and the two older daughters, Marina and Audrey, went to the local marketplace every day, to shop and sell. Since Leroy worked the farmland each day, this left Yuan alone with Mithos, the human, and the two younger girls. Since Mithos was about as good for conversation as the unconscious man, Yuan watched over Meg and Kinna.

"I always wanted a big brother," Meg chatted happily, bouncing on Yuan's lap. "Or a little one, too. Will you be my brother?"

"Of course I will," Yuan said, smiling. "You know, I always wanted a sister."

"Really?" Meg perked up. "Do you want to keep Kinna?"

It was calming, a nice change of pace, to spend time with children again. Back at home, he had watched over the little ones, played with them, laughed with them. He was struck with a sudden…fear for the children of the mansion. Had they survived the trip to their respective safehouses? Had any been caught, or even killed?

"Hey." Yuan was jerked out of his thoughts by Meg frowning at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just…thinking about my family at home." He heard Mithos put down his book behind him.

"Were you thinking about your mama?" Meg asked.

"…I don't have a mama."

"Neither do I." She hopped off Yuan's lap and picked a picture off the fireplace mantel. "This was my mama. She's pretty, right?"

Yuan examined the photo. It showed Leroy, about twenty years younger, and his bride. "Yeah, she is. She looks just like you, Meg."

Meg smiled. "Papa tells me that. She died when I was really, really little. Kinna killed her."

Yuan was taken aback. "Kinna didn't kill her. She's just a toddler."

"Yeah, but when she was born, Mama died," Meg said simply.

"Meg, it's not Kinna's fault. Things like that…they happen. It's an accident." Yuan shifted so that Meg could clamber up onto his lap again.

"I know it was an accident," Meg said. "But if Mama hadn't had Kinna, she'd be here."

"…Meg." They turned to see Mithos standing behind them. "Do you want to hear a secret?"

"Okay!" she chirped, smiling at him.

"I don't have a mama, either," he whispered. "See, I'm just like Kinna. My mama died right after I was born. But you know what?"

"What?" Meg asked.

"I'm lucky. Martel never blamed me. She looked after me and took my mama's place. And that's why Kinna's lucky, too, because she has you. She has a big sister to take care of her and love her and do all the things a mama does. Can you do that for her?"

"Hmm…" Meg glanced behind her at Kinna, who wiggled her fingers in response. "…Okay. I'll do it. I'll be the best mama-sister for Kinna ever!"

Yuan opened his mouth, although he wasn't sure what he planned to say. The human suddenly let out a half-hearted moan. "Nooaahhh…"

All three glanced at him, eagerly waiting to see if he was awake. However, the man merely moved his head and moaned again before lapsing into silence. Yuan turned back to Meg.

"You're a good girl," he said. "You promise to take care of Kinna?"

"Promise!" she said cheerfully.

The door burst open, and Martel, Marina, and Audrey hustled in through a beam of sunlight. "Any sign of life from our friend over there?" Martel huffed, setting a basket of fruit down on the floor.

"He keeps calling out for someone," Yuan informed her, standing up. "Noah, I think. Other than that, nothing."

"The fever causes hallucinations," Marina said, stretching her arms. "Hopefully, he'll be awake by tomorrow."

"Mithos, can you go get Leroy?" Martel asked. "I'm going to make dinner."

Mithos leapt up and bounded out the door, eager and hungry. Yuan leaned against the wall beside Martel.

"So, I've been thinking," he began. "About our plan from here on out." Martel was silent, so Yuan pressed on. "Since our…buddy over there is going to up soon, maybe we should decide what to do."

"What are your thoughts?" she asked, pulling out a knife and cutting board. "Where will you go next?"

"I'll get back in touch with some of Demitri's contacts," he answered. He felt a pang in his chest as he spoke his mentor's name, but ignored it. "I know a woman close to Troy, a big player in the operation. I'd like to get some people together to do rescue missions, you know? Get half-elves out of the Compounds."

"…Yuan, do you think…" Martel hesitated, her hand hovering over the vegetables she was chopping. "…I mean, do you know of any…places Mithos and I can go?"

"A safe house, you mean?" he said. She nodded. "I can find out. Usually, the houses are only for kids, but I doubt anyone would turn you away." He paused. "…Don't worry. If worse comes to worse, we'll put Mithos in a safe house and you can stay with me."

Martel stopped her work and turned to look him in the eye. "Mithos and I stay together, do you understand? I would never entertain the idea of leaving him behind."

"Whoa, wait," Yuan said, stepping back and holding up his hands. "I don't think that will happen. But I'm just preparing you. If you can't stay in the safe house with him, are you going to drag him wherever I go? Around the world, through war zones and battlefields, up mountains and across the ocean? Because that's no life for a kid."

Martel frowned. "...I know that. But I'm the only family he has left, and we…we stick together."

"Okay." Yuan nodded. "But you have to be ready for the consequences. I don't want to hear you complain about how dangerous it is for him."

"…Thank you," she sighed, resuming her cooking.

"You're welcome."

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><p>The rest of the day flew by. Yuan had been drawing a map and charting possible routes, mumbling to himself while Meg watched over his shoulder. Eventually, Leroy and his daughters went to sleep, Mithos drifted off, and Martel urged him to go to the same.<p>

"You need to sleep," she said. "You can't strain yourself like this."

But still Yuan remained, evaluating and examining potential courses of actions. The human's mumblings and groans had become more and more coherent as the hours passed by.

"Noah, don't. Don't…don't do it…"

"I concur," Yuan muttered, rubbing his eyes. It was well past midnight, he knew, and he was starting to feel his fatigue. His eyes refused to focus on the map any longer, so he decided to take a bath and go to sleep.

Cool water, Yuan had discovered, was his new best friend. His first bath had, with a lot of scrubbing, removed the layers of dirt, sweat, and blood from his skin and hair. Yet he couldn't understand why he was still so brown and dirty, until his skin started to peel the next day. Weeks of exposure to the sun, wind, and heat had baked him, Yuan realized. The water soothed the itch that ran beneath his skin and calmed him down.

Yuan went back upstairs, his hair lank and wet, eager to rest his tired eyes. As he reached the kitchen, he heard a creak and spun around. There was a sudden thud and brightness flashed, then the pain came.

"Gah! What the hell?" Yuan opened his eyes, blinking back stars. He realized, a little too late, that he was on his back, on the floor, with someone standing above him.

"Where am I?" an unfamiliar voice panted. Yuan's eyes slid back into focus, revealing the figure above him. "Did Drake send you here?"

The human man was standing there, white and shaking, holding a large metal pot above his head. Yuan tried to stand up, but the man shook his weapon threateningly. "Don't move!"

"Yuan, what's goin-oh!" Martel was standing at the bottom of the stairs, with Leroy standing behind her. "Yuan, are you…are you alright?"

"Fine," he grunted. "Just a little dizzy."

"Who are you people?" the human shouted, turning around to face Martel. He staggered a bit as he spun, gripping the table to stay upright. "Who sent you?"

"Please, calm down," Martel pleaded. "You're very sick, you need to rest."

"Tell…me…where…I…am," he repeated.

"You're in Iselia," Yuan said. "Put the pot down."

"…Where's-where's my sword?" the man gasped. His knees buckled a bit, but he didn't fall. "I need my sword."

"We kept it safe," Martel said calmly. "We have it."

"Give-give it to me."

"No," Yuan told him. "Not until you calm down. Now, give me the pot."

The human's eyes flickered from Yuan to Martel fearfully and anxious. "…Fine." He handed it to Martel, who held it tight.

"Good," Yuan said, standing up. "Now go lay back on the couch. You're still too sick to move."

"I…I can't…" He staggered forward, but almost pitched face first onto the stone floor. Yuan grabbed him, supporting him across the living room and onto his makeshift bed. "…Leave me alone. Whatever he wants, he'll never get it out of me. I won't talk."

"How are you doing?" Martel asked Yuan, gently touching the lump where the pot had made contact.

"Never better," Yuan said as the world around him spun. "Not like I got hit with a heavy kitchen utensil or anything like that."

"Here." Martel placed her hands on his chest. A green light engulfed him, easing the pain in his head and steadying his vision. "Better?"

"Much, thank you." Yuan turned to the man on the couch, intending to aim questions at him. Instead, the human had doubled up on the couch, clutching his stomach and squeezing his eyes shut.

Martel nodded. "He's hallucinating, but at least we know he's alive."

"He tried to kill Yuan!" Mithos burst out. "How do we know that he won't try it with Martel or somebody else?"

"The boy's right," Leroy said in his clear, deep voice. "I don't want him hurting my girls. How can you prove that he's harmless?"

Yuan leaned down and looked the human eye-to-eye. "Hey. Hey." He shook the man's shoulder, and his eyes slowly opened. "Don't try that again."

"That's it?" Mithos snapped. "Gee, if I knew that telling him to stop would've worked-"

"Mithos, shush," Martel said.

"Listen to me. Don't panic. I'm going to tie you up." Yuan looked at Leroy. "Do you have any rope?"

"In the shed," he said. "Wait here, I'll get it."

The human shook his head and gulped. "No…no, don't do that…"

"It won't be tight," Yuan said. "And I promise we won't hurt you. But I have to keep everyone safe, and this is the way to do it."

"…Fine. But you won't get me to tell you anything."

"Yuan, are you sure this will work?" Martel said worriedly. "What if he escapes or attacks one of us again?"

"I'll stay with him," Yuan said. "Remember, I have his sword on me."

"No!" The human sat up, gasping for breath. "I need my sword, it's my only weapon."

"That's why we're keeping it. Lay back down." The human shook his head and looked wildly around the room. He pointed unsteadily at the door.

"I need to get out. I need to leave. I have to see Noah, I promised him I'd visit…" He trailed off, trying to stand while Yuan pushed him back.

"Are you talking about your uncle?" Martel asked.

The human nodded. "Yes, I promised him I'd visit."

She looked up. "Yuan, we can't tie him up. That'll just make him panic and make the delusions worse."

"How high do you think his fever is?" he asked, pushing the man onto his back. He was twitching now and trying to yank Yuan's hands off. "Stop struggling."

Martel placed a hand on his forehead, which he clawed at angrily. "…At least one hundred. There's some herbs in the cupboard, I'll see if I can make something to put him to sleep."

Yuan watched as she walked away, his eyes following her bare legs as she moved. He was roughly knocked aside as the human suddenly shoved him and stood up. "I can't stay here," the man gasped. "I need to leave, I-I need some air."

"Stop struggling," Yuan grunted, seizing the man. The both went down, thrashing around on the floor. "Stop! Ugh!" The human kicked out, cracking Yuan across the chin.

"No! No, let me go! I don't know anything, I swear!" The man clawed at the floor, trying to drag himself away from Yuan. "Don't hurt me!"

"We aren't going to…" Yuan lost his grip and watched as the human ran for the door. "Get back here!"

The man had disappeared out the doorway by the time Yuan had scrambled to his feet. "Martel, stay here!" He chased after the human, while Martel called after him.

"Be careful! He's scared and delirious!" Yuan spotted a shadow sprinting into the crop field and took off after it. "Did you hear me?" Martel shrieked from behind him.

"Hey, get back here!" Yuan yelled, shoving plants aside roughly. "We just want to talk to you!"

He heard a rustling near him and followed the noise blindly. He hit a body and fell back into the mud with a thump.

"Gah!" Yuan blinked and looked up to see the human backing away in fear. "Come back!"

"Ge-get away from me! I'll kill you!" Yuan stood up and felt a breeze of air. Something silver flashed in front of his face. "I swear I will!"

The human was waving a scythe.

It was one of the scythes Leroy used to harvest wheat; the man had probably grabbed it as he ran out the door. Now he held it tightly, shaking and sickened. His face was white and his hair plastered with sweat. Yuan held up both hands.

"Listen, I promise we won't hurt you. Please, put down the scythe." His mind raced. This was a much more dire situation than a small pot; now he feared for his life. He knew how sharp the tools were kept, how easily they could slice across skin and tear a person apart. "You can come back to the house with me."

The human was breathing heavily. "…Where's Noah?" he asked suddenly.

"Wh-what?"

"Noah!" he shouted, swinging the scythe in anger. Yuan leapt back and shielded his face with his hands. The blade missed by a few inches. "Did you kidnap me? He'll come after me, and he'll slaughter you."

"We didn't kidnap you!" Yuan jerked away as the man narrowed his eyes. However, the scythe remained still. "Listen, I don't know who Noah is, but I promise that we won't hurt you."

"…I can't take that chance. Move, towards the fortress, or I slice you to pieces. Now."

_Fortress?_ Yuan thought as he spun around and walked back to the house, the man behind him. Martel was standing on her tiptoes to see into the field.

"Yuan, did you find him?" she asked. The human prodded him in the back. "Yuan?"

"Keep moving, or I behead you both."

"Martel," he called out, sounding much calmer than he felt, "Go back inside."

"What? No. Did you find him?"

Behind him, the human moved suddenly. Yuan heard the swish of the scythe and dodged to the side, landing in the mud. The human was running, fast, straight for Martel.

"Run!" Yuan screamed, standing up and following. Martel stumbled backwards, avoiding the first swipe, but she'd fallen. "Damn!"

Yuan flat out sprinted towards the figures, but he was too far away, the human too quick. The scythe swung down again and Martel cried out. Suddenly, something hit the human, knocking him backwards with a yelp.

"Leave my sister alone!" Mithos had flung himself into the man's stomach, catching him off guard. The small boy had tumbled head over heels and landed splayed out on the ground. Yuan took his chance and ripped the scythe out of the human's hand.

"Stop! Stop, I'll tell you what you want! I'll tell you everything!" He was squirming and screaming as Yuan held him down.

"Leroy! Do you have that rope?" Yuan flipped him around and forced his wrists together. "Leroy!" A length of rope fell near him. "Thanks."

Once Yuan had the human restrained and steady on his feet, he dragged him inside. With a glare, he shoved the man roughly on the couch. "Don't move."

"Go to hell," he answered bitterly.

"You first." Yuan shuffled into the kitchen tiredly. "Martel, are you and Mithos alright?"

"What the hell were you thinking?" Mithos snarled. He had a few scratches on his face and arms, but Martel was dabbing them with antiseptic.

"Mithos! Language!" She spun around. "We're fine, Yuan. Just a few bumps and bruises. Did he hit you at all?"

"No, but it was a little too close for comfort." He sighed. "I tied his hands, but he's still not really…all there. He thinks we kidnapped him. Is it normal for him to be this…awake?"

Martel shrugged. "It depends. In the Compound, we had one man think that the guards were his servants. He ordered them around, told them what he wanted for dinner, stuff like that. But I've never seen someone so…violent. Hopefully, he'll be lucid after a few hours of rest."

"Yuan." Leroy stepped forward. "Yuan, I don't have a choice. I'm locking your friend up."

"Please, Leroy," Martel pleaded. "He's sick, he doesn't realize what's going on. In a day or so, he'll be coherent, I promise."

"Yes, but you saw what happened. I can't risk my daughters' safety." Yuan opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off. "Please, don't."

"What are you going to do with him?" Yuan asked instead.

"…The basement. When he recovers, I'll let him out."

"Hey!" The human yelled from the living room. "Hey, you can't keep me here! I am Kratos Aurion, son of the Tethe'allan commanding general! Let me go!"

Martel snapped her fingers. "Kratos! I knew it started with a 'K'!"

"Kratos? Strange name." Yuan stretched and yawned. "Geez, I'm tired. It's been a long night."

"Do you want some sleeping tea?" Martel asked. Yuan gave her a questioning look. "An herbal tea that induces sleep. I'm going to give some to our friend over there to calm him down."

"Ah. Okay." Yuan followed her as she entered the living room and held out a cup to Kratos' lips.

"Drink this," she said calmly. He scowled at her and shook his head. "It's not poison, I promise."

Yuan sighed. "Listen, my patience is up with you, buddy." He pinched Kratos' nose , holding it until he opened his mouth and gasped for air. Martel took her chance and tipped the tea into his now-open mouth.

"You bastards," Kratos sputtered when Yuan let go of his nose. "What did you just give me? Was it poison, or some kind of truth serum?"

Yuan rolled his eyes. "How long until it works?"

"About five minutes. He'll be out cold by then." She led the way into the kitchen and handed Yuan another steaming mug of tea. "You should drink some. It'll put you out for a while."

Yuan smiled and took the mug, his hand sliding over hers. "Thanks. You take such good care of me, Martel." She returned the smile and laughed lightly.

Mithos cleared his throat, breaking the moment. Leroy nodded to Kratos. "I'm going to take him downstairs."

"I'll check on him tomorrow morning, Leroy." Martel sighed and patted Mithos' shoulder. "Okay, kiddo, time for bed. Again."

"'Kay." The siblings climbed the stairs together, while Yuan watched them go.

"No…you…you…don't put me…in that…place…" Kratos was already drowsy as Leroy lead him downstairs, his hands still tied. "Get…get away…from….from me..."

Yuan fell backwards onto the couch and closed his eyes. He was asleep before he saw Leroy head back upstairs. His last thought, before waves of cloudy, dreamless sleep rolled over him, was that Martel had a very, very warm hand and a very, very pretty smile.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10! Hopefully, I'll be updating again soon. Like, actually soon, not two and a half months too late. Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Now I'm a one-man jury and I got all the facts<br>Do you want to change your story  
>Before the judge gets back?<br>No one's calling you a liar, but there's no smoke without fire_

_~James Hunter, 'No Smoke Without Fire'_

"Mmm…" Yuan opened his eyes and stretched. "Ah. I don't think backs are supposed to crack like that."

"Shh." Sitting up, Yuan saw Martel kneeling on the ground, praying. Mithos was beside her, glaring at him. "Shut up," he hissed.

Yuan dropped beside Martel. After a few minutes, she finished her prayers and turned to him. "Feeling better?"

"Well, I don't have a delusional maniac with a scythe chasing me," he answered. "So far, it's been a good morning."

"What are we going to do when he wakes up?" Mithos butt in. "Is he going to hang around with us?"

"I don't know," Martel said. "Assuming he doesn't try to kill or capture us, I suppose he'll go home, wherever he lives."

"And where are we going to go?" the boy asked. "Back to the island?"

"What island?" Yuan asked curiously. "Where did you live before the Compound, anyway?"

"It's a long story," Martel said hastily. "I'll tell you some other time. But, no, Mithos, we aren't going back there. Yuan is going to help us find a place to live."

Yuan smiled at Mithos comfortingly. Mithos gave him a look of disdain. "I don't want to live with him."

"Mithos, stop it. Apologize to Yuan." Martel gave him a harsh look. "Now, young man."

"Why should I apologize? It's the truth!" Mithos folded his arms. "We can take care of ourselves, Martel, why do we need him?"

"It's not a matter of taking care of ourselves," Martel snapped at him. "A friend has offered to help us, and I think it's pretty lousy of you to treat him this way."

Mithos looked taken aback, but sighed. "…Sorry," he muttered to Yuan.

"Um…well, I'm going to…go…" Yuan backed out of the room, watching as Martel glared at her little brother. "…food."

From the kitchen, he could hear the two siblings talking in low voices. Martel would say something in her soft whisper; Mithos would answer in a clipped voice. Yuan quickly started pulling pots and pans down from the cabinets, making as much noise as he could. He got the feeling that this wasn't meant for his ears.

As he cooked, Yuan caught snippets of the conversation, words here and there. He'd just put bacon on a skillet when he heard a knocking. He ignored it, assuming it was coming from the other room. After a few seconds, however, he realized it was coming from the basement door. He grabbed a knife from the counter. Cautiously, he unlocked and opened it.

The human, Kratos, stood on the other side, looking disheveled and tired. His burgundy hair was sticking up at odd angles and his face was slightly pink. "Where am I?" he mumbled, looking around in confusion. His eyes lingered on the knife in Yuan's hand. "How did I get here?"

"The better question is, how did you get untied?" Yuan asked. He relaxed a little as the human stepped forward, his hands raised in surrender; he had calmed down from the night before.

"…I…don't remember." Kratos drifted over to the table and sat down. "I…why can't I remember?"

"What's the last thing you do remember?" Yuan asked, sitting beside him.

Kratos took a breath. "I was walking in the desert. I didn't have water, and then I fell…" As if the memory suddenly came back, his voice became stronger. "I tried to keep moving, but it was too hot. I remember lying on the sand and…and watching the sun go down. After that, bits and pieces…"

"Do you remember me at all?" Yuan asked.

Kratos shook his head. "No…all I remember is the sun." He fell silent while Yuan stood up and continued cooking.

"How are you feeling?" Yuan asked. "Sick at all?"

"No. I'm actually..." His stomach gave a growl suddenly and Yuan felt a smile form on his face.

"Good timing, human. I'm making breakfast. Martel! Martel, come in here!" he yelled into the other room. Both his companions came in.

"What is it?" Mithos asked, annoyed. When he saw Kratos, his eyes widened. "Wh-what's he doing untied?"

Martel shushed him and walked over to Kratos. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked, touching his forehead gently. "Your fever's gone down."

"Stay away from him, sissy!" Mithos said shrilly. Martel gave him a dirty look. "He tried to kill us!"

Kratos frowned. "I did?"

"Mithos," Yuan said, "Kratos doesn't remember anything since he collapsed in the desert. He doesn't remember last night."

"What did I do?" Kratos asked, strained. "Why…don't I remember?"

"The fever affects memory," Martel said, businesslike. "Of course you don't remember. You were hallucinating."

"…I tried to kill you?" Kratos sounded lost, and Yuan felt a twinge of sympathy for him. "Why?"

"You were having a delusion," Martel said soothingly. "It's not your fault, Kratos."

"How do you know my name?" he asked, alarmed.

"I'm from Tethe'alla," she answered simply. He nodded. "Listen, we'll talk later. Right now, just eat something. Yuan and I are going to take care of you."

"Yuan…that's a strange name." He looked at Martel. "Are you his wife?"

"My…wife?" Yuan caught sight of Martel's face, which had turned red. "Uh…"

"And that is your son?" Kratos pointed to Mithos, who bared his teeth.

"No way! If Yuan was my dad, I'd…I'd…" Mithos was apparently unable to think of anything, so he settled for making a disgusted face.

"No, we're not married," Yuan said hastily. "Martel and I…um…we…"

"My name is Martel, and this is my younger brother, Mithos." Martel pointed to Yuan. "Yuan is a friend of ours. We aren't a family, just…a few folks in the same boat."

"I'm…sorry. I didn't mean to offend anyone." Yuan slid a plate of food in front of Kratos, whose stomach growled again. "Thank you."

"Are you making bacon?" Meg appeared in the doorway, with Kinna trailing behind her. "Look, Kinna, bacon!"

"That's right," he said cheerfully. "I'm making toast, eggs, and bacon. Anybody want anything else?" He put a plate in front of Martel.

"Looks good to me," she said, smiling. "I didn't know you could cook, Yuan."

"He probably spit in it," Mithos grumbled.

"Only in yours." Yuan slid a plate across the table to the boy.

"Kinna's hungry!" Meg said, bouncing in her seat with excitement. "And so am I," she added as an afterthought.

"Here," Yuan said, setting two more plates down. "Where's everyone else?" he asked.

Meg shrugged, trying to feed an egg to Kinna. "Marina and Audrey went to the market early today with Daddy."

"They left?" Martel said. "But they always wait for me…" She looked disappointed.

Yuan shrugged. "Maybe they figured you would want to sleep in today. We did have a long night." He turned to Kratos. "This is Kinna and Meg. Their family helped us when we found you in the desert."

Breakfast was an awkward affair. Martel seemed preoccupied, her mind elsewhere. Meg and Kinna giggled and played as they ate. Kratos was silent, while Mithos glared at him ferociously. Yuan didn't say anything, just observed. Finally, Kratos cleared his throat.

"You said you found me in the desert?" Yuan nodded. "Did I still have my sword on me?"

"I have it," Yuan said. "I'll give it back to you, on one condition." Kratos raised an eyebrow. "Tell us who you are."

"You already know," the human mused. "Or, at least, she does." He pointed to Martel. "You know my name, and I'm sure you've heard a few stories about me."

Martel blushed. "Well…there are some rumors, but I ne-never thought any of them were actually true."

Yuan gave her a curious look before turning back to Kratos. "Well, I'm from Sylvarant, so I don't know about any stories. I just want to know whose side you're on."

"Side? Hmm…I suppose neither, at the moment."

"That's not very helpful," Yuan answered. "Let's start with who you are."

"…My name, as you know, is Kratos Aurion. I'm the son of Drake and Felicia Aurion. I was a soldier in the Tethe'allan Royal Army for five years, until a clash of ideas forced me to reconsider my career choice."

"What the hell does that mean?" Yuan asked. Mithos sighed. "What's that, brat?"

"Stop calling me that. It means that he's an AWOL soldier." Mithos glared at Yuan. "AWOL means 'absent with-"

"I know what it means," he answered loudly, turning to Kratos. "Well? Is that true? You're a deserter?"

"…Yes," he admitted. "Right now, I'm the most wanted man in Tethe'alla and Sylvarant."

"I can imagine," Martel said. "The general's son, deserting the army? It must've been quite a scandal."

"My family's used to scandal." He looked up and caught Martel's eye, and for a moment, Yuan felt like they knew something he didn't. But the moment passed.

"You shouldn't be wanted that badly just for desertion," Yuan said suspiciously. "...You did something else."

"..." Kratos seemed to be mulling something over in his head. "...Yes, I did."

"Well, what?" Yuan demanded. Kratos didn't answer. "Answer me!" Kratos was still quiet, shaking his head. Yuan reached over the table and shook his shoulder. "Come on, spit it out!"

"Yuan," Martel said quietly. She motioned for him to follow her into the living room, where they stood close and whispered. "Yuan, if he doesn't want to tell us, he doesn't have to."

"But-" he began, but she put a cool finger to his lips to shush him.

"We haven't told him anything about us," she said. "Why should he trust us if we don't trust him?"

"But what if he's on the run for…for murder or something?" Yuan asked. "He's a wanted man."

"And so are you," she answered evenly.

"Ma-Martel!" They both turned to see Mithos, his face pale, hanging in the doorway.

"What's going on?" The two adults ran into the kitchen, where Mithos was pointing. Kratos was staring out the window, his face tense. "What is it?"

"They're coming." He gestured outside, where they could see at least two dozen people marching towards the only house for miles: the one they were currently inside of.

"Soldiers," Yuan muttered. The Tethe'allan flag was flying beside what appeared to be the leader, who was riding a horse. "Why did they send an entire army just for us?"

"…Well, we were supposed to be interrogated," Martel said. "Yuan, did you know anything important?"

"No. Demitri was the only one who knew anything. What about you two?" Both siblings shook their heads, before the three of them turned to Kratos. "...Well, I think there's only one other wanted man in the room. Whatever you did, my human friend, it must've been bad."

"Kratos?" Martel said uncertainly, touching his shoulder gently. Kratos didn't respond, or even seem to notice her hand there.

He was still staring out the window, but there was a hardness about his face. He seemed more aggressive, more alert than he had that morning; more like the man who had swung a scythe at Yuan. But he was also calmer, less scared, more composed. Slowly, he turned and held his hand out to Yuan.

"I'm going to need my sword back now."


	11. Chapter 11

**So much for a quick updating schedule. Oh, well. Chapter 11, enjoy!**

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><p><em>What am I fighting for?<br>__There must me something more  
><em>_For all these words I sing  
><em>_Do you feel anything?_

_~ Yellowcard, 'Fighting'_

Martel had to practically drag Yuan into the kitchen.

"We can't give him back a weapon!" Yuan said immediately. "That's just asking for trouble."

"I don't think we have a choice," she said. "Can _you_ fight through a battalion of soldiers without a proper weapon?"

"…I can try to fight with his sword," Yuan suggested. Martel shook her head.

"Yuan, Kratos is a professional soldier. He's famous in Tethe'alla for having a high fatality count."

"And if he turns on us?" Yuan demanded. "What then? What chance do we have against a man who mows down his enemies on the battlefield?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But we don't have much of a chance without him."

Yuan sighed, rubbing his temples. "…Damned if you do, damned if you don't." He looked back at where Kratos stood, staring out the kitchen window. "Go get his sword. I'll use a scythe."

"I'll fight with…something. I'm sure there's some object I can use as a weapon around here," Martel said. "I'll get Meg and Kinna upstairs. They should be safe if they hide."

Yuan hadn't even thought of the two children, or their family. "I hope they don't come after Leroy and the girls."

Martel went upstairs while Yuan looked on the porch where the scythes were kept, hanging on the wall. He grabbed one and swung it a few times, getting a feel for it. He wasn't used to fighting with impromptu weapons, but it wasn't as if he had a choice right now.

When he came back inside, Martel was standing in the kitchen, holding a walking stick. At Yuan's curious look, she said, "Meg says that Leroy used it last year when he hurt his leg. I thought I could use it as a staff."

Kratos buckled his sheath onto his belt. "The soldiers are coming up fast. It wouldn't be wise to wait until they reach us."

"What should we do?" Martel asked Yuan. "Should we try to…ambush them or something? A surprise attack?"

Yuan hesitated, then shook his head. "No. They know we're here. They won't be surprised by an attack, so that's out. Our best bet is to just…meet them before they get here. That way, they won't reach the house, they won't hurt the girls, and we'll be able to run into the desert if we need to."

"Wait." Kratos gestured to Mithos. "What weapon does he use?"

"Are you crazy?" Martel said. "He's a child; he can't fight."

"Then he'll have to stay here. He'd just get in the way during the battle." Mithos glared at him and he frowned. "What?"

"I'm not staying anywhere," Mithos growled. "I'm going with you. I have to watch out for Martel." He pulled out his kendama. "I can fight with this."

Both Kratos and Martel made exasperated noises. "Mithos," Martel said, "you can't fight with a wooden toy. You can…stay behind us, away from the fighting."

"But I can-"

She cut her brother off. "We need to move. Mithos, you stay behind me at all times. Understand?"

"Sissy, if you'd let me-" the boy began, but she interrupted him again.

"Do you understand, young man?"she said firmly. Mithos opened his mouth to argue, but sighed and nodded silently. "Good. Then let's go."

The group started out the door. As they walked away, Yuan heard someone yelling and turned back.

"Goodbye! We'll miss you!" Meg was waving from the window, holding Kinna in her arms. As he waved back, the younger girl smiled and laughed. "Come back and visit us!"

Yuan turned away from the house and towards where the soldiers stood. "How many do you think there are?" he asked Martel. However, Kratos answered.

"The typical squad is only five or ten men. Since there are obviously more than that, I would say that's an entire platoon of soldiers."

"And how many is that?" Yuan asked.

"Between thirty and fifty men. I would say closer to the fifty end."

Yuan whistled. "Fifty of them, versus three of us. Are we sure we don't want to try and sneak by them?"

"How would we sneak? Where would we hide?" Martel sighed. "Well, we do have one advantage."

"You care to run that by me?" Yuan said. "I didn't think we had any."

"…Magic," Mithos said, rolling his eyes. "Geez, you're dumb. Tethe'alla soldiers are humans, so they can't use magic."

"Shut it, brat." Yuan turned to Kratos. "Tell me, human, what defenses do they have against magic?"

Kratos squinted. "Not much. I know that scientists were working on armor to block magic, but so far, it's only experimental. Not released to the troops yet."

"So we do have an advantage." Yuan flexed his fingers nervously around the scythe. "Martel, what kind of magic can you do?"

"Well, I heal, of course. I also know some simple light and darkness spells." She sighed. "I also know…status spells and protective spells. Nothing really powerful, besides my healing."

"Okay. So here's what we're going to do." Yuan nodded at Kratos. "Kratos and I will rush in first, start the fight off. We don't want them to attack us first, that gives them a tactical advantage. Martel, I want you to hang back. Since you have to watch out for Mithos, hold your position in front of him. Keep an eye out and heal when needed. If you get the chance, use some offensive spells, but make healing your priority." He looked at them. "Everyone okay with that strategy?"

Both his companions nodded. They were getting closer to the marching soldiers, who were now close enough to see them. As they approached, the commander halted his horse. "Stop!"

Yuan stopped, eyeing up the commander. The three behind him followed suit. "What do you want with us?" he asked, gripping the scythe tighter.

"Kratos Aurion, by order of the King of Tethe'alla and your father, the grand General Drake Aurion, you are under arrest for high treason." The commander lowered his lance, aiming it directly at the human. "As per special request from the General, we are going to attempt to take you in alive. Do you intend to come quietly, or will we have to subdue you by force?"

"You'll have to give me moment to think about that, Commander Paris." The commander jolted a bit on his horse, surprised. "You didn't think I would recognize you?" Kratos chuckled. "Don't be silly. Of course I plan to resist."

"…Very well," Paris said, readying his weapon. He turned the horse around, addressing his troops. "Remember, men, take Kratos alive. The others are nothing but escaped half-elves; kill them."

Yuan and Kratos both attacked at the same time. While Kratos headed directly into the group of soldiers, Yuan jumped and swung the scythe at Paris. While it merely made a clang against his armor, the attack spooked the horse, sending the animal running in fear. Paris attempted to hold on, but he fell and was dragged twenty feet before he fell to the ground and didn't get up. Yuan saw his helmet was split open; the horse had kicked him in the head.

"Yuan, look out!" At the sound of Martel's voice, he spun around, swiping at a solder and knocking him to the ground. He began to slash and swing the scythe, hitting the soldiers as he went through them. Their armor protected them, however, so the scythe only succeeded in knocking them aside. He dodged lances, spears, and swords, but still had slices and scratches across his bare skin. Martel was doing her best to heal them quickly, but she, too, was being attacked. There were just too many men.

As he fought, Yuan caught glimpses of Kratos. The human was focused, precise, never using more effort than necessary to take down an enemy. His blade pierced through skin, dented and scratched armor, knocked soldiers aside. He seemed almost untouchable, evading the enemies' attacks with skill.

Yuan struck down several more soldiers, but they kept coming. He was knocked down, panting on the ground as a soldier bore down on him. He tried to stand up and run, but the soldier stepped on his stomach, pinning him to the ground. He saw the sword as it was lifted above him, its point aimed at his head. He closed his eyes, hoping his death would be quick.

"Gah!" Yuan opened his eyes to see that a rock had been thrown at the soldier's head. "Why you little bitch!"

Yuan rolled on his side to see Marina standing ten feet from them, backing away. "No, no!" She screamed and he tried to stumble to his feet. He was up just in time to see a circle of light surround the soldier. He fell to the ground with a strangled yell, and Martel ran to Marina's side. Yuan struggled to shake off his disorientation and followed her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I…" Marina looked terrified. Yuan patted her shoulder and she flinched. Her eyes welled up with tears. She suddenly turned ran off in the opposite direction. Martel called her name, but she didn't stop. Yuan wiped the sweat off his forehead. "What the hell?"

Martel opened her mouth to answer, but just then a shrill scream cut through them. They turned to see Mithos dodging the blade of an attacking soldier. They both ran for him, but the soldier was already preparing another attack.

With speed that Yuan had never seen, Kratos raced to Mithos' defense. He kicked the soldier's stomach, and when he stumbled back, Kratos shoved the blade through his chest. Before the body had fallen to the ground, the human had spun around and was heading back into the fray. Mithos stood in front of the dead soldier, looking blankly at him, before he dropped to the ground and began desperately clawing at the body.

"What's he doing?" Martel asked, running over to him. Yuan turned around and followed Kratos into the battle.

There were still at least twenty soldiers left, all of them focused on Kratos now. They were ganging up on him, trying to tackle him to the ground. Yuan planted his scythe on the ground and inhaled. He focused on his own energy, feeling mana pulse through his veins. The words came automatically, sounding strangely loud to him, even though he knew his enemies couldn't hear him over the sounds of battle.

"_From the heavens comes a power to strike my enemies down…Thunder Blade!"_

The attack hit directly where Kratos was, blasting the soldiers away from him. Yuan ran up beside Kratos, who was staring in awe at the lightning still crackling around him.

"Are you okay?" Yuan asked. Kratos nodded, panting too hard to answer. "Good. I think that took the rest of them out." He kicked one of the downed soldiers, knocking his helmet off. Kratos turned away.

"…Someone you know?" Yuan inquired. The human closed his eyes and nodded.

"His name is Balyn. I shared a room with him in my first year of boot camp." He walked away, towards where the Yggdrasill siblings were. "Is anyone hurt?"

"Y-Yuan." Martel pointed past the group of bodies, to where two people stood. Yuan squinted and saw Leroy and Audrey standing there.

"Hey! What are you guys doing here? Why are you all the…way…out here…?" He trailed off as the realization hit him. "…No." He stalked across the battle field, stepping over bodies to reach them.

"…S-stay away!" Leroy blocked Audrey from his sight, but Yuan didn't care much. "Don't hurt us!"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Yuan hissed. "You aren't worth the effort. How could you turn us in?"

"Not all of you," Audrey squeaked. "Just the human. You see, his picture is all over Triet, and I saw it the other day when I was trading there."

"It was a huge reward," Leroy said.

"I don't much care," Yuan snapped. "What good could come of this?"

"…I have to take care of my girls," Leroy said, his voice low. "I need money, and this was just too good of an opportunity to pass up." Martel, Mithos, and Kratos had made their way beside Yuan. "Please, try to understand."

"…I understand. I understand that we were fools to trust you, Leroy." Yuan shoved him out of the way. "Unfortunately, it backfired on you. Now you have no money, and you'll be shunned by the Iselia community. How will you make a living when you can't sell your crops and livestock? When your neighbors and customers can't trust you?"

Yuan started towards the desert. Kratos followed him, ducking his head. As Martel led Mithos after them, Audrey said her name and she turned.

"…Please, Martel. We're friends, right? Don't be mad." Martel stared at her sadly, but didn't say anything. She caught up to Yuan and he caught sight of her face, tears pouring down her cheeks.

"Don't cry," he murmured, wiping her face. "It's not that bad."

"…They were my friends," she said softly. "Audrey and Marina…I really liked them."

The four kept walking, while the grass turned to sand beneath their feet. Mithos was carrying various items he had taken off the bodies: food, water canteens, money, armor and such. He handed Martel a spear that was in good condition.

"What happened to your staff?" Yuan asked. She made a face.

"Stupid thing snapped a few minutes into the battle. I threw the pieces at somebody."

"You threw them at me," Kratos said suddenly. "I wondered who had hit me with a stick."

Yuan laughed. Martel smiled weakly. "…Sorry about that."

"…" Kratos didn't answer, but Yuan thought he saw a flicker of a smile. But it vanished as quickly as it came, Kratos' face back to its normal passive expression.

Yuan squinted across the desert, towards the mountains on the other side of the desert. "…I suppose this is where we part ways, then. Where are you going to, human?"

"…I don't know," Kratos admitted. "But I would like to accompany you."

"Why?" Martel asked, surprised. "We aren't going to Tethe'alla."

"I owe you my life," he answered gratefully. "You easily could've, probably should've, let me die out here." He kicked the sand. "You chose not to. For that, I owe you a debt I must repay."

"You don't owe us anything," Yuan said firmly, but Kratos ignored him.

"I wish to join you." All three half-elves shot each other a look, while Kratos continued. "I can be you guard."

"We don't need a guard," Mithos said. "We can take care of ourselves." Martel shushed him, waving him quiet.

"Kratos." Martel smiled lightly at him. "Where do you live?"

"…" Kratos hesitated. "I am a soldier. I camp outside, occasionally stay at inns or hotels. My home is everywhere."

"So, nowhere," Yuan said. "You have nowhere to go." He exhaled and folded his arms. "What about your family? Your…father?"

"We aren't exactly speaking right now," Kratos said bitterly. "I am guilty of high treason."

"So you admit that you're guilty!" Mithos said triumphantly. Martel rolled her eyes and shushed him again.

Yuan looked carefully at Kratos, examined his eyes and face. He saw no trace of dishonesty in the human's face. Finally, he said, "I don't have a problem with it."

Kratos' thin line of a mouth curved upwards slightly. Mithos got a sour look on his face. Martel looked hesitant, but finally said, "On one condition."

Kratos' smile disappeared. "What?"

"Tell us why you're wanted." When Kratos blinked, Martel said, a bit more firmly, "Put your money where your mouth is. How do we know you can be trusted?"

Kratos sighed. He shuffled his feet, and Yuan suddenly felt bad for him. How it must feel, he thought, to have no home, no family or friends to turn to. To suddenly be displaced.

He knew that feeling.

All three half-elves watched Kratos, who shifted uncomfortably under their gaze. He sighed.

"...I don't suppose you've heard the story," Kratos said slowly, "of the burning of Compound 32?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Gah, I'm so late. Sorries, world. I promise, promise, promise I will update quickly. Promise. Or you can yell at me and stuff.**

**Big hugs to all those who read and review. I'm not sure I like how this chapter turned out, so I'd like to know what everyone thinks.**

**You know.**

**Awesomesauce. **

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><p><em>It takes a thought to make a word,<br>__And it takes some words to make an action,  
><em>_It takes some work to make it work,  
><em>_It takes some good to make it hurt_

_~Jason Mraz, 'Life Is Wonderful'_

Martel insisted that they set up camp and eat before Kratos told his story. As she and Yuan sorted through the defeated soldiers' food, Mithos started a fire. Kratos moved closer to help him, and to everyone's surprise, Mithos didn't object. Yuan watched the pair as Kratos patiently showed Mithos how to arrange kindling the best way.

So Kratos had been the mysterious soldier. Well, that explained quite a bit. But there were still missing pieces, things that didn't fit. Why had the son of a commander, so high in rank and status, committed such a treacherous act? There was obviously bad blood between the father and son. He wondered if Kratos could truly be trusted, or if he was just another Leroy, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

"Yuan?" He jerked his head up to see Martel watching him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." He pulled out a pack of food."Tethe'allans eat well," he commented, examining its contents. There were pieces of dried meat, vegetables, fruit and bread. "I haven't eaten strawberries in years. They only grow in one spot in Sylvarant."

"Really? They were everywhere when we lived on the island." Mithos ripped open a package of dried peaches with his teeth. His sister yanked it away from him with a chastising look.

"Mithos, stop chattering," Martel said quickly. "Where in Sylvarant do they grow?" she asked Yuan, obviously looking for a change of subject.

Yuan pointed to the sea. "The Tower of Mana, near Asgard. There's an old urban legend about it. Apparently, there's a woman who lives there, called The Ghost of Mana. She grows food in her garden, and that's the only place strawberries grow."

"Here." Martel tossed him the entire package of berries. "Mithos and I are both allergic."

"I used to break out in a rash every summer," Mithos said through a mouthful of fruit.

Martel started to roast the meat, while Yuan popped strawberries into his mouth. Thirty minutes later, the sun was setting and they were sitting around the fire, eating. Yuan finally let his curiosity get the better of him.

"So what's the story?" he questioned the so far silent human, swallowing a bite of food. "How did this all begin?"

"Yuan," Martel said quietly, "Maybe we should let Kratos-"

"No, it's fine." Kratos leaned back on his hands and sighed. "You've given me more than enough time." He pointed off towards the shoreline. "It all started when my squad was allowed some R&R in Palma. On the way there, we passed by one of the Compounds Drake had set up." He shuddered. "It was…one of the worst things I'd ever seen, and I'm a career soldier. I saw mothers holding their starving children, dead bodies in mass graves, men who had gone raving mad." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Martel made a noise in her throat and touched his shoulder comfortingly, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Most of the men in my squad were just as disturbed as I was. One even vomited. But there were several soldiers who were…" He paused, thinking of the correct word. "…Excited, almost. They showed this sick delight at other people's suffering."

A hush fell over the four. Martel and Mithos were huddled close to each other, while Yuan watched Kratos' face flickering in the light of the fire. Finally, the human continued.

"Palma is currently under Tethe'alla's reign," he said. "But there have been rumors of the Sylvaranti civilians fighting back."

All three of them turned and looked at Yuan. "What, just because I'm from Sylvarant, I know all about rebels?" he said dryly. When they all kept staring at him, he sighed. "You're absolutely right. There are factions of resistance fighters popping up. Pretty soon, the city will become a combat zone."

"When we stopped for R&R," Kratos explained, "not many people were very happy to see us. Quite a few spit at us. But we found a hotel that was run by a Tethe'allan, very sympathetic. That…was where I met her."

"Ooh, a girl." Yuan grinned teasingly. "Tell me, human, was she pretty?"

"Yes, actually," Kratos said simply. "One of the hotel maids. She had this…rebellious quality in her that I liked. I walked her home one night, in the name of chivalry, and we bonded. Over a few days, we…" Kratos paused again. "…became intimate."

"Yuck." Mithos made a face, while Yuan and Martel laughed. "What? That's so gross!"

Kratos smiled a ghost of a smile again. "So this maid and I-"

"What was her name?" Yuan interrupted.

"Kara. Her name was Kara." Kratos sighed sadly. "She was something special. She told me that she had been sneaking food to the prisoners in the Compound, that she knew a secret way inside. I mentioned that somebody should do something about it, and she said, 'Well, aren't you somebody?'" He chuckled. "She was right. So I said goodbye on my last day of R&R and left the city. I snuck into the Compound, using her secret entrance. It was a door to the furnace."

"Hey, that's how we escaped!" Mithos blurted out. All eyes turned to him as he realized his mistake. "…Oops."

"You…were at a Compound?" Kratos asked wearily.

They were silent for a few seconds, until Yuan said resignedly, "Well, the cat's out of the bag now. Nice going, big mouth."

"I said I was sorry," Mithos snapped.

"No, you didn't, actually," Yuan said coolly. "It doesn't matter. Yes, Kratos, we were at a Compound. But that's not relevant to your story, is it?"

Kratos slowly shook his head. "It matters not. I went through the furnace room, saw stacks of bodies waiting to be burned." Yuan felt goosebumps form up and down his arms, remembering how lucky they were during their own escape. "I went up and smashed down doors, freed people, unlocked the gates…" Kratos paused.

"What about burning it down?" Martel asked softly. "Did you really destroy it?"

"…Things got out of hand," he said grimly. "The prisoners rioted when the guards tried to stop them. Someone cast a fire spell and…" He held up his hands. "Everything was lit. There was smoke for miles, everything was torched."

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Yuan said, "So you've been running ever since."

"What about your family?" Martel asked, frowning.

"…" Kratos sighed heavily. "If Drake doesn't already know, it's only a matter of time before he realizes that I burned the Compound down."

"…And your mother?" Martel prodded cautiously. "Have you spoken to her?"

"Once," he answered flatly. "Right after. We said goodbye, and that was that."

"Wait, she didn't offer help?" Yuan asked. Kratos shook his head. "What kind of rotten mother-" He stopped as Martel glared at him fiercely. "…Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to insult your mother."

"It's fine," Kratos said impassively. "I've heard much worse. Trust me."

* * *

><p>Felicia waited until Drake was out of the house. He'd gone to some military meeting, dressed and pressed and looking so much like the man he used to be, that she felt a hollow ache in her chest. So many years ago, he had chased her like prey, the only thing he wanted but could not have. Now he thought he had caught her, owned her, but she wasn't his. She never had been.<p>

The chest was old and dusty, its hinges coated in rust. With trembling hands, Felicia picked through the contents.

A single hair comb that he had given her.

Dried, pressed flowers, a symbol of his love.

A stack of letters, tied with a band and yellowing at the corners.

The lock of auburn hair that had marked such a bittersweet surprise for her.

A book of poetry, sent from a far away land and written in an ancient tongue. He had promised her he would teach her to read it. He never had.

Finally, she found it. A piece of paper, nestled in the book of poetry. On the page of her favorite poem, the one he used to read to her.

The handsome young soldiers smiled up at her from the photograph. Both were garbed in battle gear: one with a bow and quiver, the other with a sword and shield. Even when they were young, they had been so different, like night and day. The happy blonde one smiling with an open mouth, his arm flung carelessly around the other's shoulder. The dark haired one, grinning just as broadly, but clearly not as relaxed as his brother. Her fingers gently touched the worn paper, delicately running over the first boy's strong jaw and good-looking face. She closed her eyes, remembering his sweet voice, almost singing to her as he read the poem to her at night.

_"You love me, and I find you still_

_A spirit beautiful and bright,_

_Yet I am I, who long to be_

_Lost as a light is lost in light."_

Felicia was struck by an image, the one that had so often plagued her nightmares. The last time she'd seen him. His throat, sliced clean across. Those beautifully bright eyes, staring at her without seeing. And his handsome face, the one she had loved so much, sallow and cold.

She felt tears run down her face. She sat in the attic for an hour, alone, crying. Crying because this was not what she wanted. Crying because so much had gone wrong. Crying for the happy family she could've had. Crying for the man she had loved, the one she had lost. Crying for Noah.

* * *

><p><strong>As an aside, that lovely poem up there is "I Am Not Yours," by Sara Teasdale, who I hope doesn't sue me.<strong>


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